


Legacy

by garbage_dono



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Assassination Attempt(s), Awkward Sexual Situations, Breeding, Childbirth, Cunnilingus, Diplomacy, Emperor Lotor (Voltron), F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Pining, Political Allies to Lovers, Politics, Pregnancy, Queen Allura (Voltron), References to Knotting, Royalty, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 42,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbage_dono/pseuds/garbage_dono
Summary: Allura has ascended to the throne of Altea, just as Lotor has reclaimed rule of the Galra Empire from his father. The two rulers usher their respective people into a new era of peace, governing separately from opposite corners of the universe.Until the queen of Altea reaches out to the emperor of the Galra for a veryintimatefavor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on KMKY and Queensguard, I swear. But this fic was calling to me and I couldn't help but start it. ~~God help me.~~

“Your majesty…he’s here.”

Allura stood by the window, watching the sunset stain the city of Altiran all shades of pink and orange. She had been waiting, statue still, in the spire study for what felt like a good varga at least, watching day turn to dusk and doing her best not to let her mind wander too far outside of the double doors. It would do nobody any good. Not her, not her family, not her subjects. Even so, it was no easy feat.

At least he was on time. Excellent.

She drew a breath and leveled her shoulders, turning to face Coran. “Send him up.”

He nodded and turned to leave, but then…paused. He lingered in the doorway, tapping his fingers against his hips as if trying to gather the right words. It brought a smile to Allura’s face.

“Go on,” she said. “I can tell you want to say something. You always used to tell me that stewing over things left unsaid wasn’t good for a person’s digestion.”

“Your majest-“ He huffed. “Allura…are you sure you want to go through with this…with this meeting?”

She turned to face him, plucking the crystal wine glass of the window sill and refilling it before she made her way across the study. “I’ve given it a lot of thought,” she said. She held the glass out to him. Coran mulled it over for a moment before taking it and helping himself to a healthy sip. “I can tell you’re concerned. I’d rather not move forward before…clearing the air, as it were.”

His chest puffed as he pulled in a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. The glass clinked against the end table as he set it down. “Move forward…So you’re really going on with this…with this plan of yours, eh? Well far be it from me to question your reasoning, but I have to ask-“

“If I’m sure?” she offered.

“Well it’s not exactly a decision to make lightly.”

“I know that.”

“And I _know_ you know. I’m not – it isn’t – I _trust_ you, of course, but I-“

“Coran.” Her smiled never wavered, the hand on his shoulder carrying enough weight to give him pause. Enough for her to get in a word or two at least. “I appreciate it, how much you care. How much you _show_ you care. How willing you are to speak freely.”

“Well _someone_ sure has to!” he insisted, twisting his mustache between the pads of his thumb and forefinger. A nervous tic. Was he truly that concerned? “You’re certainly not a little girl anymore. Not by a longshot. No, you’re a _queen_ now, and I’m your royal advisor.”

“A fact you’ll not soon let me forget.”

“So I have to _advise_ you, don’t I? It’s part of my job description.”

Allura sank down on the sofa by the window, clasping her hands in her lap over her dress. “It is,” she said. “Alright then. Advise me.”

His arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. “Oh, don’t look at me like that…like you know just what I’m going to say. I’ve still got plenty of wisdom to impart, missy.”

“Missy?” she laughed. “That’s a far cry from _your majesty,_ don’t you think?”

“Y-yes, well I-“ He faltered only for a moment, then straightened up again and took the crystal glass from the table. He swallowed the last of the wine in one gulp and set it down on the bookcase with a heavy sigh. “Fine, fine. I came to advise, so here I am. Advising. Are you sure you’re approaching this from the…right angle?”

_That_ got her attention, sending something quivering in her chest as she looked up at him. “The right…angle?”

“I know your intentions are good,” he said, his tone suddenly just this side of _solemn._ “Stars above, ever since you took the throne you’ve done nothing but think of your people. The throne. The…the bloodline. But the people need _you,_ Allura. You’re their queen. You. With or without an heir to the throne.”

“But I _will_ need an heir,” she reminded him.

“But are you sure this is the way to go about it? Your logic may be good and sound, sure, but I just…I can’t stand the thought of seeing you hurt.”

She balked. Hurt? Did he truly think she was in danger of such a thing? She stared down at her hands, at her nails she’d spent ages shaping and filing and polishing, just to make a good impression. People paid attention to hands. _Galra_ paid attention to hands. She was leaving no detail up to chance.

“You’re talking as if the decision has already been made,” she sighed. “I haven’t even met with him yet. I haven’t mentioned a thing about it to him. It’s all hypothetical still. He may very well not accept-“

“And what if he _does?_ ” Coran sat across from her, eyes boring into her with an intensity she rarely saw in him. “What if he accepts? What then? What will he expect? What kind of terms will he suggest?”

“I have no way of knowing what _he’ll_ do.” Allura stood, plucking the wine glass from the bookshelf and placing it back on the tray by the window. _No detail up to chance._ “But I’ve made up my mind, Coran. I hope you can understand that. And I'll have my own terms.”

His relenting sigh left him looking older, but he hoisted himself up to his feet and clasped his hands behind his back in the familiar way, fingers tapping against his wrist as he headed for the door. “You sound a lot like your mother when you say it like that,” he told her. “A lot like your father too.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest, radiating outwards. “Could you show him up?”

“Of course.” His head bowed, and he turned on his heel. But then he paused, and he raised a finger as if trying to tuck one last thought into the space between him and the door. Like nudging a book onto a crowded shelf. “Just…one more question. If you don’t mind.”

She had little choice, but she nodded anyway.

“Why him?” he asked, brow pinched with curiosity. “This certainly wasn’t a sudden decision. Many a night’s sleep got away while you were mulling it over, I’m sure. So why him?”

It was a fair question. She’d asked herself the same plenty of times and second guessed her answer just as many. She glanced over toward the window again, and as the sun dipped outside and the light faded, she caught a glimpse of herself in the glass – tiara resting against her temples and her mother’s earrings peaking out from under her white hair.

Perhaps it was because she had seen the Galra empire go from a bramble of terrified conquered people to an efficient and diplomatic federation in the span of just a few decaphoebs.

Perhaps it was the way he spoke to his people – and more importantly, to those who were _not_ his people – not as an iron-fisted king who ruled using fear, but as a peacekeeper seeking common ground.

Perhaps it was the Altean alchemist blood that ran through his veins.

There were a swath of reasons for her to choose from, but she found herself coming back to the same one every time she asked herself the same question on all those nights when sleep proved elusive. She watched her reflection in the glass – watched her back straighten and her shoulders rise. Standing like her mother. Like a queen. 

“Because he’s the kind of ruler I strive to be,” she finally said. “And I know he will hear me out without prejudice or greed clouding his judgment. That must count for something.”

Coran tapped his foot, looking thoughtful. “Yes,” he finally said. “Yes, it must. I’ll see him up, then.”

_It must count for something._

She steadied herself poured another two glasses of wine.

* * *

The capital city of Altea had changed very little from what Lotor remembered. Verdant trees and flowers seemingly in bloom no matter the season, streets constantly bustling with activity no matter the hour, and the castle towering overhead at the heart of it all. A constant reminder of the queen’s watchful eye.

He’d been filled with a cool sense of melancholy when he’d approached the wide arching entryway and found it draped with pink banners and flowers. The latter were freshly cut, no doubt replaced every few quintants at least. And there they would remain, meticulously maintained for at least another phoeb. Perhaps longer. Ultimately, it was the new queen’s decision.

The queen of Altea…Allura. The same woman who had summoned him here. Who had insisted they had to talk in _person._ Color him intrigued.

Once he’d made it up the wide spiral staircase to the top of the east castle spire, High Advisor Coran stopped him in front of an ornate wooden door at the end of the corridor. “Here we are,” he said, and that was _all_ he said. Odd for a man who was known for being verbose. He raised his hand and knocked.

A beat, and then from the other side of the door came a voice: “Come in.”

The door swung open, and Lotor stepped across the threshold without a moment’s hesitation. He was curious. Eager, even. Just what did the queen have in store for him that was so important it could only be discussed face to face, high above the rest of the city?

He stopped and let the door close behind him, and for a moment he felt like he had stepped into the late King Alfor’s mind itself – deep burgundy carpets underfoot, dark wooden rafters crossing overhead, the last vestiges of sunlight spilling through the wide arching windows. And the _books._ They were everywhere. Stacked on shelves that reached almost all the way up to the ceiling, circling the entire room and drawing Lotor’s eye across all their spines until they were inevitably pulled to-

“Queen Allura.” He bowed low, bent at the waist, his palm pressed over his heart. “It’s an honor to finally speak to you face to face after so long.”

How long had it been? At least as long as it had been since he'd last set foot on Altea. She had been just a princess then, and he a fledgling emperor with his father's blood not yet dried on his sword. It felt like there were entire worlds between that time and this one. 

Her smile was an enigmatic one, and somehow that suited her. “Please,” she said, reaching a hand toward him and ushering him to straighten up again. “You’ve already done me a favor just by agreeing to meet about this…personal matter of mine. For now there’s no need for such formality.” Now that smile of hers warmed. “You’re looking well. The throne suits you.”

“I was about to say the same,” he admitted. “Though I noticed the mourning banners are still hung. My condolences for your father. King Alfor was truly-“

“A visionary, a genius, a ruler loved by his people.” She listed the accolades like she’d heard them a thousand times before. Like she was tired of them. “He was all that and more, and I’m exhausted from all the sympathy. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, of course, but-“ Her teeth caught her lower lip, and she reached for a bottle by the window and a pair of glasses. “Would you like a drink?”

He stepped further into the study, eyeing the glasses and marveling at how the setting sun caught their perfectly polished edges. “Is that Altean wine?”

She poured him a generous helping and offered it. “My father’s favorite,” she said. Fitting. “He had more bottles in the cellar than he could ever dink in a lifetime, so now the task has fallen to me.”

Like the crown, he thought. The wine suited her too – dry and full-bodied with just a hint of floral sweetness. From the juniberries, no doubt. Like all Altean wines and liquors it was strong. Almost overpoweringly so, and he set the glass on the sill after a sip. Any more would probably make his head swim.

Allura glanced down at the glass, her own halfway to her lips, and he watched as her eyes widened in horror. “Oh-“ Her jaw clenched. “Oh, I’m sorry – I forgot the difference in our tolerance-“

“It’s quite fine,” he assured her, unable to stop himself from chuckling at the flush that crept over the tips of her exquisite ears. “My mixed blood lets me sample Altean wines without making a fool of myself, at least. Most of my fellow Galra aren’t so lucky.”

She was already snatching the cup from the window sill again and placing it on the tray by the bookshelf. “It was careless of me,” she sighed. “Forgive me, Emperor Lotor. I have to admit I’m a bit more…absent-minded than I would like to be lately.”

From their meeting, he wondered? Surely she couldn’t be so nervous just to speak. Although she had insisted on passing on her invitation to him directly. She had even waited on the line until he had finished briefing Acxa on their approaching reconnaissance mission to the Schulzar sector. And that had not been a short meeting. Perhaps what she had in mind for their talk was more sensitive than he’d realized.

His interest piqued.

“Is it…something I could help with?” he asked, and she turned before he could get a full look at that flush of hers creeping from her ears all the way down to her cheeks. With her head turned toward the window, she took another deep sip of her wine and set her glass down again.

“I’d like to take a walk,” she said. “If you don’t mind.”

She nodded toward the glass double doors leading out onto the terrace. And no, he certainly didn’t mind. The rainy season had long since passed, leaving behind a cool breeze carrying a scent of flowers and grass. Much better than the stale recycled air and engine fumes that he was used to. He bowed his head. “Of course.”

Allura was a vision in the sunlight, white and rose dress falling over her shoulders and hugging her hips. It had only been a few short phoebs on the throne had transformed her from a young and eager princess into every bit a queen. Regal and dignified. Strikingly beautiful. The setting sun turned her silver hair gold as she leaned on the banister overlooking the gardens below.

The door slid closed behind him, leaving them alone with the breeze.

“The castle is quite beautiful,” he mentioned to fill the silence.

Allura shot him a smile. “As beautiful as it has been for the last thousand decaphoebs. The people wouldn’t be too happy with me if I tried to rearrange the architecture.”

That laugh suited her as much as anything else.

“Queen Allura-“

“Emperor Lotor-“

Their words got caught up in a messy jumble, and both of them slipped back into silence before Lotor waved her on. “Please,” he said. “You brought me out here for more than just a silent walk, I’m assuming.”

“I did.” She sighed, hands folded in front of her, as if she were trying to make herself look smaller than she was. Now that, unlike everything else about her, didn’t suit her one bit. But she held her head high and held his gaze as she took in a breath and continued: “I have a favor to ask you.”

“A favor?”

“Yes. One of a…a personal nature.”

“You said as much in your message,” he reminded her. Once she had finally gotten ahold of him after that _ghastly_ briefing. _A meeting. Alone. To discuss a personal favor._

And here he was.

She tugged on the edge of her sleeve, fingers playing over the fabric. A nervous tic? “My father,” she breathed. “When he took the throne, he was already married. He and my mother were newlyweds at the time.”

“I remember hearing the stories,” he said with a rueful little smile. “And if I remember them correctly, you were born not long after that, and Queen Melenor was out delivering food to the people up until the day before she gave birth.”

Allura released her grip on her own sleeve, letting out a breathy little laugh. “She was…My father reminded me of as much more times than I could count. She adored being queen. And the people adored her…”

“Just as they adored your father,” Lotor reminded her. “And you.”

“I do appreciate the sentiment, but I didn’t ask you here to stroke my ego.” Instead of toying with her sleeve, Allura took to folding her hands together in front of her, silver nails glinting in the sunlight. “Still, I’m glad you brought it up. It’s…relevant to what I’d _actually_ like to ask you. All I ask is that you hear me out.”

“You hardly need to ask,” he told her. “This favor…does it have to do with your father’s legacy? Or your mother’s?”

“Mine, actually.” Her expression was unreadable. Almost solemn, but she smiled all the same. “It’s no secret that I’m still unwed. Unlike my parents.”

Lotor’s heart thumped against his chest. “You’re hardly the first monarch to take the throne without a partner.”

“True, but a partner isn’t my concern. I’m not looking for marriage.”

Was that relief settling in the pit of his stomach? Or disappointment? Maybe both? In either case, he pushed it down before it could show on his face.

“No,” Allura said. “I don’t want to marry. Not now. Perhaps not ever. But I do have certain…duties to the throne that I can’t overlook, being an only child of two deceased parents.” She turned her gaze from him to the juniberry blossoms blooming in the gardens below the terrace. “Emperor Lotor…how much do you know about the rule of succession on Altea?”

“A fair amount, academically speaking.” The flowers drew his gaze too, but he stayed where he was, a good two or three strides away from the queen where she leaned against the railing. “The crown is passed to the eldest child, either when the reigning monarch dies or determines that their health can no longer allow them to rule competently.”

“And if there’s no child to take the crown?”

“A sibling would come next,” he said. “A niece or nephew after that.”

“My father and mother had no siblings,” she told him, although he knew as much already. “No nieces or nephews then either. So if I were to die tomorrow, do you know who would take the crown?”

He blinked, intrigued. “Nobody.” She turned her head to face him. “Someone would eventually, of course, but initially that would invoke a Slagenvex.”

Her eyebrows arched. “That’s not very common knowledge.”

“I happened to spend a good deal of time in exile before returning to take the crown,” he reminded her with a crooked smirk. “A good amount of time to study all sides of my own heritage.”

“Of course…” She straightened up from the banister, her hand lingering on its surface. The sun was beginning to dim, the sky darkening to a deep navy. “And you’re right…there hasn’t been a Slagenvex in a good long while. Six generations. And the last time it happened it plunged Altiran into chaos. People suffered while the politics of it all worked themselves out.” Her fingers curled against the smooth, polished marble. “I’m sure you can understand why that’s not the kind of legacy I’d like to leave behind.”

He did understand. Better than most, he would even wager. “Forgive me,” he said. “But considering that you’ve made it clear you’re not proposing marriage, I fail to see how you’d like me to help you secure your legacy.”

“I’m proposing something else.” He swore that flush on her cheeks was back, though it was hard to tell with the last vestiges of sunlight staining her skin pink and orange. “Not marriage, but…a union of sorts. I don’t need a husband, but I _do_ need…a…well…”

Struggling to find her words. That was not like her at all.

“I need a donor,” she finally said, her voice smaller than he was used to hearing it. And that pink stain on the bridge of her nose was decidedly _not_ from the sun. “I don’t need to marry to secure my family’s bloodline and ensure that it won’t end with me. But I do need to have an heir. A…child. And I can’t exactly do that alone.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Stars, of _course._ All this talk of legacy and bloodlines was far from simply metaphorical. It was something that had no doubt been weighing on her mind ever since she had first had that crown placed on her head. And here she was, coming to _him_ for the solution.

A solution that involved him much more _intimately_ than politics alone would ever call for.

Void preserve him, he found himself speechless for the first time in a _very_ long while.

“I realize it’s a lot to ask,” she was saying, though her voice sounded distant. Muffled. “I can’t imagine it’s a decision you could make lightly, but all I can ask of you is to…consider it. Even if you don’t agree, please just hear the terms and make your choice then.”

He finally found one word, at least: “Terms?”

She faced him again, fully. Her eyes were suddenly clear of any hesitation. Now they blazed with determination instead. “All I would need is for you to help me conceive an heir. That’s as far as your involvement would go. After that, the child would be born and raised here, on Altea, and I would consider your part to be finished.”

He swallowed. “And if the child were to ask about their father-“

“I couldn’t bear to keep such a secret from them,” she admitted, brow furrowing and making her look almost pained. “I’d think that would be…cruel. So I would prefer to be honest with them. When the time came."

“And if they wanted to _meet_ their father?”

“That would be their decision, when they were old enough to make it.”

Lotor drew a breath, chest feeling tight under his armor as he clasped his hands behind his back. “And if the Altean people objected to someone taking the throne who had Galra blood?”

She frowned. “They would be Altean.”

“Moreso than I am, but not as much as you,” he retorted. “Make no mistake, I’m not…refuting your proposal. Not yet at least. But have you considered-“

“I _have_ considered,” she fired back, hands suddenly clenched by her side as her eyes gleamed. “I’ve contemplated and analyzed and pondered this subject from every angle. Over and over until my head ached, I promise you. I don’t ask you this lightly, Emperor Lotor, and I wouldn’t blame you if you turned me down. But please don’t assume I came to this conclusion without considering every possible angle first.”

“And what _will_ you do?” he asked her. “If I say no, what will your next action be?”

She took a moment, breathing in deep and rounding her shoulders. The chill was coming in quickly, and goosebumps were erupting over her exposed forearms. “There are a few others I’ve thought to ask.”

“And yet I was first on your list?”

For a tick, he swore he caught her pouting. “It isn’t a long list.”

“Length aside, why am _I_ at the top of it?”

She studied him for a quiet moment or two before taking a step closer. “Because of all you’ve done. For the Galra, for the universe, for all the planets once under your father’s control. You fixed so much that seemed like it was impossible to repair, and if my father had lived to see the extent of your accomplishments he would have been thoroughly impressed.” She offered him a small, sweet smile. “And I am too. Impressed, that is. You’re a phenomenal ruler, Emperor Lotor. The kind of ruler I hope to be. And the kind of rule I hope my children will be too.”

The sun had dipped below the tree line, the golden hue gone and leaving them standing in shadow that should have driven them back inside. But they stood there on the terrace, Lotor staring at her, studying every inch of her face, at a loss for words.

Of all the people she could have gone to, she had chosen him. Not for his Altean blood or his alchemic genius of a mother or his armada or his title. But for _him._ For his actions. For everything he had spent his life striving to achieve.

A child…a future ruler of Altea…could he trust himself to create something so _important?_

“Will you think about it?” she asked, leaning closer still until he could smell her floral perfume and the wine on her breath. “Please. Just…think about it. Sincerely.”

That, at least, he could do.

“You have my word,” he said with a bow.

Her smile now was warm and genuine. “That’s all I can ask. Thank you.”

* * *

The moment he set foot on the flagship again, Lotor was hit with a wave of exhaustion so intense he could have slept right there on the hangar floor without a single complaint. The night he’d spent in Altiran after his _discussion_ with the queen had been decidedly sleepless; he’d spent it pacing his quarters and watching the moon move sluggishly across the sky until sunrise.

He hadn’t stayed for breakfast either, which may have explained why his stomach was tied up in such tight knots.

“Let me walk to my quarters alone, _please,_ ” he said to the guards flanking him as he left the hangar. “Allow me some time to think.”

A firm salute. “Sir!”

He sighed and rounded the corner, but his relief was short-lived.

“ _There_ you are!”

He fought back a groan. “Ah…Dayak. Forgive me for not leaping in the air with glee at the thought of whatever thrilling conversation you’ve come to offer, but I’m nursing a headache after the hyperspace travel from Altea.”

Dayak stared down her nose at him. Lucky for her, she was possibly the only one in the empire _allowed_ to do so with impunity. “Sarcasm is hardly a good use of your time, Emperor Lotor.”

“And yet it’s one of the few vices I can’t seem to shake off.”

“Your generals are back from their reconnaissance mission to the Schulzar sector. You should debrief with them.”

He eyed her as he rubbed his temples. “Not even going to ask me how my trip was?”

“Should I?” she huffed.

“It was quite…interesting, to say the least.”

Dayak rose a thin brow, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. “Ah yes…your _meeting_ with Queen Allura. She is quite the striking Altean woman, isn’t she? A rather… _sensible_ one too, albeit a bit too young and naïve for my tastes. Just what did she want with you?”

His chest seized. No, he was most certainly not going to discuss those details with Dayak. Certainly not here in the middle of the hall. “There is no royal wedding on the horizon,” he said instead. “I can tell you that much.”

“I certainly hope not, because I would advise against it.”

“Would you?”

“Indeed.” She scoffed quietly, shaking your head. “Marrying an Altean woman…can you imagine the backlash from the empire?”

He bristled a bit at her words, though he did his best to hide it. “My father did it,” he reminded her. “And I’m as much Altean as I am Galra, in case you’ve forgotten. Would it really be so unseemly?”

“Unseemly? No.” She trailed her thumb along the edge of her crop, sharp nail catching on the tightly wound leather on the handle. She was itching to use it, it seemed. “There are far worse things you could do for your hold on the empire. But nonetheless, I’m glad that _wasn’t_ the subject of your little meeting.”

“It was a simple diplomatic discussion,” he said when he reached the door of the training deck. “Nothing more, Dayak. And I’ll be happy to let that be the end of it. Now if you don’t mind, I believe I have a debriefing to see to with my generals-“

He certainly didn’t relish slamming the door in his governess-turned-advisor’s face, but it was a relief to have that layer of metal between them nonetheless. He rested his forehead against the cool surface, allowing himself a groan.

“Rough trip?”

Lotor turned and caught a glimpse of Acxa on the bench, blade in her hand as she meticulously polished its gleaming surface. “You look like you’re getting another one of your headaches,” she told him before he could answer.

She could read him too well. He sighed and rubbed his temples, all but proving her point. “Nothing I can’t handle. Tell me about Schulzar.”

“Quiet,” she said as she stood and sheathed her blade. “That moon base is still abandoned. No signs of life.”

“You’re sure?”

“We were thorough.” She pursed her lips. “Should I get the medic?” He glimpsed at her, watching as her thin brows arched. “For your headache.”

“I don’t need the medic.”

Acxa shrugged. “A cup of tea then?”

“You sound like Dayak.”

“Ugh, how dare you.” That brought a smile to his face, albeit a small one. Didn’t do much for his head, unfortunately, but a little pain was hardly going to kill him. “No signs of Sendak or the Fire of Purification anywhere in the sector.”

He rose a brow. “Not one sign of them?”

“No.”

It _should_ have been good news. To anyone else, it would have been. But to him, it read very differently, and it seemed Acxa was getting the same message too. No, the quiet was not a sign of peace. Sendak was not one to give up so easily. It brought the same unease as a receding ocean current – like water disappearing out to sea before a devastating tidal wave.

Lotor sighed. “They’re planning something.”

“They’re _always_ planning something.” Something sparked in her eyes, leaving Lotor less than surprised when she followed it up with, “Permission to be…blunt, sir?”

As if she needed to ask. She usually didn’t. He shrugged anyway. “Go right ahead.”

“You shouldn’t have gone to Altea without us.”

_That_ made him pause. “Shouldn't I have?”

“Sendak wants you dead.” As if that was _news._ “He’s out there planning another attempt on your life, and we have no leads on where to find him to stop him. Going to Altea _alone_ is…is…”

“Reckless?” he offered.

Acxa let out a long breath. “I was going to say _unadvisable._ ”

“Now you _really_ sound like Dayak.”

She grimaced.

“And I was hardly alone,” Lotor reminded her. “I had plenty of loyal guards to accompany me, not to mention that Altiran is one of the most well-guarded cities on one of the most powerfully fortified planets in the universe. All things considered, I was probably safer in the castle there than I am right now.”

Acxa’s expression shifted, the concerned furrow in her brow giving way to something more…intrigued. “So you really did go there to talk to the queen?”

“I am an emperor, Acxa. Speaking with nobility is part of my job.”

“But _in person,_ ” she insisted. “On such short notice that you couldn’t even wait for us to get back? With such a skeleton crew guard when there’s a band of assassins out for your blood?” Now that intrigue morphed into _shock._ “This was something…important, wasn’t it? Something personal.”

He studied her for a moment before an easy smirk slipped onto his face. “Tell me, just what kind of bet do the others have going about my trip to Altea?”

Without missing a bit, Acxa huffed. “Ezor has 500 GAC on you trying to court the queen of Altea, and Narti has twice that on you coming back already engaged.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers, like his headache was suddenly contagious. “Zethrid insisted you’d be sporting some new scratches down your back and bite marks on your neck.”

Honestly. Like he needed that visual after everything he’d had spinning through his mind the last several vargas. “Do _any_ of your bets have anything to do with our _diplomatic_ duties?”

“ _Was_ it about your diplomatic duties?”

He _wanted_ to say yes. After all, the answer _was_ yes. Allura had asked him for a favor, a way to help secure her hold on the throne. She had asked him for help protecting her legacy, her lineage, her parents’ memory. It was all in the name of _diplomacy._

“It’s…complicated,” he finally said.

“Complicated?”

“ _Involved._ ” Or at least it had the potential to be. In more ways than one. _Personal,_ he wanted to say. He thought better of it. “She asked me for a favor. Nothing more or less than that. And nothing that concerns you.”

His tone had more bite to it than he’d intended, but Acxa didn’t let any offense show on her face. Instead, she bowed her head and headed for the door. “Understood, sir.”

She was halfway across the room when Lotor spoke up again: “Acxa.” She turned. “Just out of curiosity…did you have any money riding on me?”

Her smile was a small and wily thing. “I’ve seen the queen of Altea. I had 200 on you offering to father her children.”

“Only 200?”

“Well, I thought you had more self-control than most people.”

If she had been almost anyone else, speaking so brazenly to an emperor could have easily gotten her ripped to shreds in the fighting pits or thrown into an air lock. But she was _Acxa,_ and he was not his father. So instead, he ignored the way his heart skipped in his throat at her comments and offered a smile to match her own. “Do me a favor and tell the others they’re going to be out a few hundred GAC, then.”

“Yes sir,” she said, and she disappeared around the corner.

* * *

He took some tea for his headache, closed the door of his chambers behind him and stripped on his way to the shower. The water was scalding hot, steam rising off of his skin as he tilted his head back and let it wash over his face and through his hair. It rinsed away the smell of juniberry flowers and Altean wine that he swore he could still feel clinging to him, even if they were undetectable to anyone else.

Schulzar…Sendak…the Fire of Purification…his brow furrowed under the water stream. And yet even a looming threat to his life couldn’t quite hold his attention like the _other_ matters weighing on his mind. More intimate matters. _Diplomatic_ matters. And the queen of Altea was a much more pleasing image to focus his attention on than Sendak and his hateful troupe.

_You’re a phenomenal ruler, Emperor Lotor. The kind of ruler I hope to be. And the kind of rule I hope my children will be too._

Void preserve him, he hoped he could prove her right.

Steaming and flushed, he stepped out of the shower and pulled on a robe, stopping in the doorway when he caught sight of a familiar figure perched on his bed. “You’re trespassing,” he sighed.

Kova yawned, showing him a row of gleaming sharp teeth before curling up on his pillow with a flick of his tail. Lotor sighed, sitting beside him and scratching behind one pointed, furry ear until Kova began to purr. “Did you know your master bet 1000 GAC on me getting engaged on Altea?”

Kova blinked at him.

“Engaged…” Lotor let his head tilt back toward the ceiling with a long and tired breath. “As if she would ever have me.”

Well, it seemed she _would_ have him. Just in a slightly…different way. He groaned as Kova promptly jumped up onto his chest and began to knead.

Children…a legacy…when was the last time he had given any thoughts to those words? Certainly there had never been a time that didn’t bring up memories of his father spitting cruel words in his face. The word “legacy” had always been a vile thing in Lotor’s mind, rife with death and pain and turmoil that he doubted he could ever hope to heal, even if he ruled for 10,000 decaphoebs.

Were these genes even something he wanted to pass on? Would he be cursing another living thing by doing so? Perhaps it was better to let them die with him, to end his vile bloodline for good.

And yet…she had chosen him. Knowing the horrendous things his father had done, knowing the twisted monster his mother had become when she had toyed with forces outside of her control, knowing that he was a combination of both of them. She saw more than his genes. More than his own twisted  _legacy._ Instead, it seemed Allura saw what his legacy could become.

Something that spurred hope rather than fear. A future ruler of Altea. A future defender of peace in this newly reclaimed universe of theirs.

Perhaps it was more selfish _not_ to accept.

“What do you think?” he mused as he ran a hand down Kova’s spine. Kova curled up on his chest and closed his eyes. “There are far worse ways to win the favor of a queen.”

Kova stretched out his paws, blinking slowly.

The dim purple lights above him were a poor substitute for an Altean sunset, but he closed his eyes and imagined the light playing on his eyelids had come from far over the lush horizon. He could almost feel the breeze, almost smell the scent of juniberries hanging in the air. Could almost taste the strong bite of Altean wine.

A childhood on Altea…how often had he wished for as much? No matter how long he lived, he would never experience it. And yet…

Suddenly the choice seemed crystal clear.

Kova leaped off of him as Lotor turned to his side, grabbing the holo-pad on his bedside table and bringing up the interface. He needed to make a call, and it would take some time to get through to the queen of Altea herself. But first, there was one thing he needed to take care of first.

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he confirmed the transfer of 200 GAC from his personal accounts to Acxa’s.

It seemed she had earned it after all. 


	2. Chapter 2

Lotor watched as Queen Allura quietly curled one lock of silver hair round and round her slender finger. She had been doing it since she’d answered his call. He wondered if she even realized it. Her carefully filed and polished nail glinted in the light as she took a slow and steadying breath and said, “You really mean that?”

“Give me some credit, your majesty,” he told her with as disarming a smile as he could manage. “I would never toy with your emotions by joking about this.”

“No – of course you wouldn’t. I just meant-“ She caught her lip between her teeth. “I know it’s no small thing I’m asking of you.”

Surely the commitment on her part was much greater. In the grand scheme of things his…involvement was almost trivial. And yet his stomach did a tiny flip beneath his ribs as he folded his hands behind his back and shrugged. “Your intentions are quite noble, to say the least. And if there’s any small thing I can do to help Altea recover its stability after the toll my father took on your people-“

“Please,” she interrupted, and he glanced up at her to find her brow creased. “Please don’t…don’t do this only because you shoulder guilt about the war, Emperor Lotor. That’s not why I asked you.”

Lotor blinked. He forced his mouth closed again and swallowed. “Of course.” A tiny bow of his head for good measure. “It’s certainly not the reason I’m accepting your proposal either.”

Her hair wound around her knuckle again, tighter and tighter. “About that…I should tell you there’s a bit…more to it than I originally shared when you visited Altiran.”

His brows arched, a knot cinching in his chest. “Oh?”

“Not much more. I certainly wasn’t trying to deceive – but some of the…the _logistics_ of it, well…I suppose I was worried I would scare you off if I told you everything at once.” She let out a nervous little half-laugh. It seemed to punch its way out of her, from deep in her stomach. That, along with the flush high on her cheeks, was oddly endearing.

“Well,” Lotor said, “You’re hardly going to scare me off now.”

Allura sighed, her shoulders rounding and the lock of her hair untwisting from around her finger. “Then let me be honest with you. Honest and frank.”

“Please.”

“Altean hormones are tricky things,” she finally told him with a sigh. “Perhaps you know already, as well-read as you are. But as many great strides as we’ve made in the fields of medicine and healing, artificial insemination is…difficult. And from what I’ve read, it may not be any easier for Galra either.”

That flush still crept over the bridge of her nose. Understandable speaking of things of this…nature. But she was far from wrong. “The success rate for such procedures is low for Galra as well. And for Alteans I know it can particularly…taxing.”

“Yes,” Allura sighed, her words tumbling out of her in a rush of relief. A line of tension she seemed to have been carrying in her shoulders went slack. “I considered it. Even started…making preparations.”

His brows rose. “Preparations?”

“Hormone injections,” she clarified, and Lotor’s eyes widened. “I had every intention of being ready once I found a suitable donor. But even the lowest doses and the most gentle of treatment plans did nothing but make me horrendously ill.” She looked pale even thinking about it. It made Lotor grimace too.

He caught a glimpse of her through the visage of the queen – a quick flash of the young woman who had accepted the burden of leadership with courage and poise. For a moment, he saw a glint of uncertainty in her eyes, of fear that she kept well hidden for the sake of her people and her family. The determination of a woman willing to sacrifice anything – and take on any burden – for the good of her people. The heart behind the crown.

That spirit was valuable for a leader, but she deserved so much more than sacrifice. There had been enough sacrifice in this universe already.

“Allura,” he said, and he drew in her gaze again. “I’m sure you have a plan. You’ve made that very clear. But if there’s something you’re not telling me…” She bit her lip, a gesture quite unlike her as a queen. Yet it suited her. “However you wish to go about this, you need only say the word and I will do all I can.”

A smile crept onto her face then, small and shy as she stared at something off the edge of her screen. Perhaps nothing in particular. Just something to focus on that wasn’t him for a moment or two. “You are accommodating as ever, Emperor Lotor.”

“Accommodating,” he repeated, and a smile not unlike hers spread across his lips. “In the older days of the empire, that would have been an insult to a ruler.”

“I certainly didn’t mean-“

“I didn’t take it that way. I took it as a compliment and nothing else, I promise you. Now, your plan for this…arrangement. What did you have in mind?”

The queen of Altea drew in a steadying breath. Renewed determination and confidence lit up her face, far more fitting than the sheepishness that it replaced. “Conception in the…the natural way. It would be easiest and more efficient than trying to use alternate means. Of course, I don’t suggest it lightly, or-“

“I accept.”

Allura blinked at him. “You…accept?”

“Forgive me for interrupting,” he added with slight bow of his head. “But I already accepted your proposition once. I’d be far from a dependable ruler if I backed out now.”

“And you…realize what I’m _proposing?_ ” she asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.

Lotor smirked, lip curling over his fangs and letting the light glint on the pearly white surface. “Inviting me into your bed.” Behind his back, his claws brushed against his own knuckles. Eager. _Dial back those instincts now…_ He chuckled. “What _will_ the people think?”

The queen bristled, shoulders rising and brow knitting as if Lotor had touched a _nerve._ “The people will know exactly as much as they need to and not a bit more. And as for what they _think,_ it hardly matters. I am their queen, and I’ve never carried myself as anything less, so a handful of unsavory rumors will be the last thing to cost me any sleep.”

Touched a nerve indeed. Lotor felt as if he’d poked a sleeping dragon. _Fascinating._

Bowing his head again to hide the grin on his face, he dropped to one knee – a move that left Allura speechless as she stared at him from the other side of the screen. “Forgive me if I offended you, Queen Allura,” he said. “I had no intention of questioning your ability to rule. Far be it from me to even think such a thing.”

He couldn’t deny there was a thrill that came with pressing his claw against that powerful scaly hide and coming away with all of his fingers intact.

“I…” A flush crept across the queen’s face as she collected herself again. “I took no offense, I assure you.” She let out a sigh. “I suppose I let my temper get the best of me.”

“And I, my biting wit,” Lotor said as he straightened up again. “Not the first time it’s nearly gotten me beheaded.”

“As if I would ever _behead_ you,” Allura scoffed. And a moment later, he swore he saw a hint of a smirk sneaking onto her face as well. “I still need your help after all.”

His laugh echoed through his bedchambers, louder than it had in a good _long_ time. “You do, it seems,” he admitted with an easy shrug. “And I’m more than willing to give it, if you would still have me.”

The double meaning of those words didn’t go over his head, considering what they were discussing. He doubted they went over hers either.

“I’d like to invite you back to Altiran,” she said. “In a few phoebs – I’ll send you the exact dates soon. The height of my cycle will be the best time…”

She let the sentence end there – let it hang in the silence between them for a moment before Lotor squared his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back. A twinge in his neck from the trip made him fight back a grimace. “I’ll be there,” he said. “Whenever you need me, Queen Allura.”

“I know your time is valuable.” A smile fought its way onto her face. “So I greatly appreciate it, Emperor Lotor.”

“Even after I seem to have insulted you?”

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had the chance to stop them, and for a moment Lotor wondered if he would regret it. But then Allura pressed her palm against her mouth, eyes lighting up with a giggle that she tried with all her regal might to suppress. With little success.

Finally, she said, “Even so.”

“Then I consider myself profoundly lucky.”

She was already reaching off the edge of her screen to pull up her own display, the blue gleam of it reflected in her eyes. “I’ll send you all the information you’ll need,” she said as she typed. “I trust that your own medical staff are more than capable of assessing your health, but my own advisors have advocated for you to receive a full physical when you arrive here as well.” Her fingers curled against her palm as she paused and looked back up at him again. “And I suppose it would be best to have that option, in case you’d rather not have news of what we’re doing spreading within the Galra empire.”

Lotor’s brow rose, his curiosity piqued. “Suggesting I keep secrets from my own people?”

“Not suggesting it, no. But am I wrong in assuming there may be some Galra that would object to this…arrangement?”

She was choosing her words carefully. A smart move. And she was far from wrong. Dayak’s less-than-thrilled tone from earlier rang in his head: _I would advise against it._

And then there was their…situation near Schulzar. If Sendak were to catch wind of this plan of theirs – well, Lotor didn’t much want to think of the possible consequences.

The thought etched a frown into his face anyway. “The people will know exactly as much as they need to and not a bit more,” he said, mimicking her words from just dobashes before, though his tone was considerably more sober.

She must have picked up on the concern weighing down his expression. “Is something bothering you?” she asked not a tick later.

“Plenty,” he admitted on a sigh. “But nothing, I assure you, that you need to worry yourself about. I’ll submit to whatever tests your medical staff deem necessary upon my arrival. Otherwise, I will leave it up to your own discretion how much or little you reveal to your people. I trust you can depend on me to do the same.”

“Of course.” And then, in a much softer, much more…open tone, with gratitude shining in her eyes, she added: “ _Thank you._ ”

* * *

One fitful night’s sleep and a forgettable breakfast later, Lotor was barely halfway out his door when Acxa intercepted him, eyes gleaming and one neat brow lifting as she stared him down. “Why am I 200 GAC richer this morning?”

He brushed past her, letting her fall in step beside him as he made his way down the corridor. “Good morning Acxa.”

“It came from your personal account. It’s not every day I get a deposit straight from the emperor.”

As he rounded the corner a signature pad was pressed into his hands with a hurried and respectful greeting from a nervous looking courier. Lotor glanced at it and signed it as he replied, “Payment for your efforts in Schulzar.”

“Ezor and Zethrid didn’t get any _bonuses_. Neither did Narti.”

They’d placed their bets wrong. “As the leader of the mission-“

“Did you knock up the queen of Altea?”

Lotor froze in the middle of the corridor. “Excuse me?”

Acxa was as cool as ever, brow arching again under a stray lock of dark hair that hung down over the bridge of her nose. “Did you?”

“That’s no way to address your emperor,” Lotor huffed.

“Did you knock up the queen of Altea, your majesty?”

He sighed. Perhaps he’d had this coming, transferring that money to her account. Then again, he saw no reason to lie. “No.”

“So the 200 GAC was…”

“You said you bet I _offered._ You never said I followed through.”

The “yet” went unsaid, but she seemed to sense it anyway. And _that_ got a reaction out of her – eyes wide and lips parted into a shocked little _o._ “You…”

“It’s complicated.”  

“You _offered?_ ”

“She asked.”

“To _sire her children?_ ”

“Acxa, don’t be crass.”

She huffed. “Don’t be _crass?_ Sir, are you – are you really going to-“ She paused there for a moment, shoulders rounding as she collected herself. As if remembering all at once that she was speaking to an emperor.

Smart of her. As always.

“Are you _going_ to follow through, sir?” she finally said, back straightening again. “You said you offered, but Queen Allura…has she…did she accept?”

Instead of answering, he offered her an easy little smile. “I’ll be in touch with you and the others about the travel arrangements when the time comes. I won’t want all of my best generals tied up accompanying me to Altea, but it will be advantageous to have at least one of you accompany me.”

Shock flashed across her face. She subdued it. “Narti would at least be able to refrain from making any smart comments.”

Because Narti was  _mute._ That didn't stop her from judging silently and  _searingly._

“And you wouldn’t?” he chuckled. “Please, Acxa – it’s not like you to let your tongue get you into trouble.”

“I can keep my comments out of your earshot,” she offered with a shrug.

He supposed it was all he could ask.

* * *

It was an unseasonably cool afternoon when Allura made her way out to the landing docks, breeze blowing through her hair and dress as she caught a waft of ship exhaust still lingering in the air. The Galra cruiser had touched down just dobashes ago, its engines steaming and hissing as they cooled from their descent. In the pit of her stomach, a knot tightened and clenched hard. She folded her hands in front of it and put on a welcoming face.

“At least the emperor sure is punctual,” Coran clucked. “Early, actually. I’d barely finished combing my mustache for the occasion when the landing clearance went through.”

“It’s immaculate as always,” Allura assured him with a warm laugh. “And we hardly need to worry about first impressions at this stage. Not when we’ve already spoken plenty of times before, in person and otherwise.”

“ _You_ have, maybe. I’ve barely gotten to spend any time with the man.”

She arched a brow. “You don’t approve?”

“Well it’s not as if that _matters!_ ” His fingers found their way to his freshly combed mustache, tugging thoughtfully. “But I would at least like to pick his brain if he’s going to be spending any… _significant_ amount of time in Altiran. A visiting emperor…it’s generating quite the buzz amongst the people.”

If they were lucky, the amount of time Lotor spent in Altiran wouldn’t be significant at all. Perhaps the chances were slim on the first try, but more unlikely things had come to pass before. The thought made the knot in her stomach explode into a flurry of Sola moths, fluttering away in her belly.

She had little time to dwell on it before the door slid open with an almost reptilian hiss, and a pair of armored Galra descended from the entrance – one broad and tall with a firm jawline and pink fur extending from her temples, the other much more lithe with a long tail swishing behind as they walked. And no eyes to speak of, now that Allura got a better look.

“So this is Altiran,” the first Galra mused, gaze drawn to the castle spire stretching up before the late afternoon sun. “Never been to Altea before…colder than I was expecting.”

The other one’s tail whacked against the first’s ankle, and the broader of the two of them met Allura’s eye. The queen managed a smile. “At least it’s a clear day, if a cool one,” she said. “Welcome, both of you. I am Queen Allura, and this is my High Advisor, Coran.”

“Charmed,” he piped.

“Forgive my generals’ wandering gazes,” came a familiar, smooth voice from farther up the ramp. Lotor stepped between the two figures, bowing low and prompting the others to do the same. “Well, _one_ of them, at least. This is Zethrid and Narti, two of my most trusted generals. I trust it’s alright that I had them accompany me here.”

Allura was about to respond, assuring him it was more than alright, when a noise interrupted her – an indignant-sounding meow. A creature wove its way between Lotor’s legs, perching at his feet and staring up at Allura with wide, bright eyes. “Oh!” she said, unable to keep herself from giggling. “It seems you have one more guest as well. A stowaway?”

“Hardly,” he said with a warm sort of fondness. “Kova. An old friend of mine who serves as Narti’s eyes and ears. He’s well-behaved, I promise you.”

And so cute, too, but Allura kept that to herself and resisted the urge to reach down and pet the fuzzy creature. “I’m sure,” she said instead. “Please…we should go inside before it gets any colder out. The wind is carrying a bit more of a chill than I dressed for this morning.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Zethrid craning her neck back as they passed through the entry arch, gaze trailing along the line of rose-colored banners marking it. She whistled. “A lot different from Galra command…the pink is a nice touch.”

“Mourning banners,” Coran pointed out with a solemn nod. “Pink is a color of remembrance and gratitude on Altea. Used to honor fallen warriors. In this case, the late King Alfor, rest his soul.”

Narti’s tail whipped against Zethrid’s ankle again, and the larger woman swallowed a yelp.

“It’s quite alright,” Allura added as the doors closed behind them. “My father would have been happy to see the day that the Galra were welcomed back to Altea. He was always of the mind that our similarities are ultimately more important and much more abundant than our differences in the end.”

“Quite right!” Coran chimed, smiling again. “After all, he was fast friends with even Emperor Zarkon back in the day…er, that was before the war started, of course. But ah…well…focus forward and all that, as he was fond of saying.”

“You would have liked King Alfor, Zethrid,” Lotor said with a grin. “Rumor has it he was quite skilled with a sword and always up for a good sparring match.”

“He ever go up against a Galra warrior?” Zethrid asked, eyes gleaming.

“I believe he bested my father in the ring more than once.” He glanced at Coran, arms tucked behind his back and brow playfully arched. “Is that right?”

“It is indeed! Old King Alfor could give just about anyone a run for their money. I was pretty handy with an Altean rapier myself, but I doubt I could have lasted more than a dobash or two in the ring with him.” As he spoke, he whipped out his arm, miming some elaborate slash and jab in the air with an imaginary blade.

“Perhaps you could be so kind as to give Lotor’s generals a tour of the castle’s historical wing,” Allura suggested, eyes darting toward Lotor again as she spoke and catching his own gleaming in the sunlight. “I’ll accompany him to the infirmary and meet you all at dinner, if that’s alright.”

“I’m sure my fellow Galra can behave themselves admirably,” Lotor said, and before she knew it he was offering his arm to her. She took it gladly, hooking her own around his elbow.

Coran’s voice echoed down the hall as they walked, arm in arm, up the east stair and along the wide, arching corridor. The silence was surprisingly comfortable, despite the thoughts racing through Allura’s mind like a storm, and Lotor’s arm was a firm, warm anchor that helped to keep her from getting swept away.

“Your…generals,” she finally breathed when they rounded the corner and found themselves alone. “They’re quite… _unique,_ aren’t they?”

Lotor let out the faintest chuckle, as if in agreement. “They are…that’s why I chose them, I suppose. They’re of mixed blood, like myself. Both Narti and Zethrid, as well as the others back at central command.”

She watched his face morph into something thoughtful, his brow pinching and the corners of his mouth drawing back as he let her arm drop and stopped in front of the colorful stained glass bay window at the end of the hall. He stared out at the city through the multi-colored swirl, studying how it stained the walls and roofs blue and purple. “They were some of the only people I trusted enough to help me take the throne from my father,” he finally said. “I’d trust them with as much now. With my life, even.”

“They sound like worthy friends,” Allura offered, and surprise flashed across his eyes.

“Friends…” he mused. “Yes…yes, I suppose I would count them as such.” His smile was back a moment later, playful and warm. “Forgive me, Queen Allura – I didn’t pull you away from your advisor simply so that you could listen to me drone on about my personal affairs.”

She let out a sigh. “To be honest, I’m happy to have a moment alone. It’s not often I have the chance for any…private conversations.” Warmth tinged her cheeks as she reached up to tuck her hair behind one ear. “The doctors will be expecting you in a varga or so, but before that I was hoping we’d have the chance to talk. Just the two of us.”

“Something on your mind?” His brow arched.

Plenty, of course. How could there not be? Every bit closer the sun got to the horizon reminded her of what they would be doing tonight. But instead of saying that, she told him, “Narti and Zethrid…have you told them why you’re here?”

“It did seem better than trying to keep secrets from them,” he answered. “And much easier than trying to sneak away from them when they swore an oath to help keep me alive. And speaking of that, I do hope you don’t plan on slipping a blade between my ribs while we’re alone.”

“ _Ancients,_ no.”

“When it comes to the rest of the empire,” he continued, shoulders forming a straight line across the width of his body – it made for quite the striking silhouette against the stained glass. “The fewer people who know where and how I’m spending my time in this sector, the better.”

The meaning of his tone was clear enough, and it made Allura frown. “I assume there are still some who are loyal to the old guard.”

“You would assume correctly,” he sighed. “But it’s hardly your concern, and believe me when I tell you I would never have agreed to this if I’d thought for a moment it would put you or Altea in danger.”

Or whatever life they might create, tonight or any future night. Her stomach flipped. “And I would certainly never put my people in harm’s way just to continue my own family’s bloodline,” she said, fighting against a waver in her voice.

Just as she finished speaking, a faint tickle brushed against her calf, and she looked downward to meet a pair of gleaming yellow eyes peering at her, nestled against midnight black fur. Kova sat at her feet and meowed and purred as his tail wrapped around her ankle.

“Are you spying on us now?” Lotor chided. All he had to do was bend down to extend a hand for Kova to easily climb up the length of his arm and perch on his shoulder. He scratched behind the creature’s pointed ear and the purring intensified even more. “Did you miss me?”

Allura giggled as she turned on her heel and headed back down the hall the way they’d come with Lotor close by her side. “I think your _generals_ might miss you. If my suspicions are correct, Coran is probably talking their ears off about the history of the sconces in the entryway. Perhaps you should go put them out of their misery.”

“I was rather interested in those sconces,” he mused as he followed behind her.

“Let Coran hear you say that and you’ll be here until the seasons change.”

* * *

Her physicians worked with efficiency and discretion. All told, it took them less than a varga to give Lotor a clean bill of health, and though Allura was far from surprised, it was a relief for it to be done. One last barrier pulled away and one fewer thing to worry about as they moved forward.

As if that made the rest easy.

She forced herself to eat the dinner at the was set in front of her but barely paid any attention to what it was. She could barely take her eyes off of Lotor sitting at the far end of the table, flanked by his generals and sipping soup from his bowl in silence as Zethrid tore into the roast.

The end of dinner came all too soon, and yet it was a relief more than anything else. She stood from the table, all eyes drawn to her as she did. “Lotor,” she said. “I believe it’s time we retire for the evening.”

Zethrid’s eyes slowly turned toward the emperor as he stood as well and straightened his gloves. “Yes,” he said. “Of course.”

They made their way down the corridor as silently as they’d eaten, Allura fighting the urge to toy with the ends of her sleeves as Lotor stared pointedly ahead. Part of her was aching to say something – _anything_ – to break the tension, but the rest of her refused to do anything other than put one foot in front of he other and she couldn’t find the right words anyway.

Finally, they reached the door. “No disturbances please,” she finally managed to say to the nightguards flanking the doorway, and she led him inside.

The sound of her bedroom door closing had never been so deafening. That, combined with the heavy footfalls of Lotor’s boots and the shift of his armor and clothes against his skin, made Allura’s heart pound as she stood facing the bed. She stared at it, at those fresh sheets and those plumped pillows and the sheer, lacy fabric hanging from the canopy above.

Well, there was little point in delaying what they were here to do. She straightened her shoulders and turned to face him, finding Lotor standing with his hands clasped behind his back, as if waiting for orders.

Just what was she meant to say at a time like this?

“I thought we could-“

“Would you like to-“

They both went silent as simultaneously as they had started talking, and Lotor gestured toward her with a slight bow of his head. “Please,” he prompted.

Allura sighed. “I thought it might be best to…get started.” Stars, why was it so hard to find the right words? Were there any at all? “It may be best to…to discuss how we should…go about it.” All things considered, it was all relatively straightforward. Or it _should_ have been, at least. She bit her lip. “Would you like some privacy?”

His brow arched, and she realized just how ludicrous it sounded. As if privacy would be anything but a moot point by the end of the night.

“To get undressed,” she added, like it helped. She nodded toward the door near the bed. “You can use the other room there. If you’d like.”

His head dipped. “Of course.”

The tick he disappeared around the corner Allura let out a breath that she felt like she’d been holding forever. She turned and caught sight of herself in the long mirror near her dresser. Frowning, she stepped closer, clasping her hands before her stomach and rolling her shoulders back to hold her head high.

“You can do this,” she breathed. “You’ve done far more difficult things before.” With steady hands, she reached up to unclasp the shoulder straps of her dress, peeling it off and leaving her in nothing but the soft slip underneath. She hung the dress by the mirror. Her shoes came off next, then her earrings and necklace.

For a moment, her fingers brushed her tiara where it rested on her temples, but she left it where it was.

She turned and took a step toward the bed, but hesitated for just a moment more. She hiked up the hem of her slip, up over her thigh, and she reached up to tug her underwear down the length of her legs.

With that out of the way, she sat down on the bed and scooted back against the pillows. “You can come back in,” she called before she lost her nerve. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Footsteps preceded Lotor back into the room, the sound of them softer than before. When he rounded the corner, she saw why – he had removed his boots and padded over toward the bed on bare feet. Her gaze was fixed on the short, sharp claws on the tips of his toes as she watched the tendons moving under his skin. Slowly, it tracked up the length of his calves – an expanse of lilac flesh disappearing under the hem of a pair of undergarments mid-thigh.

Quietly, Allura felt thankful for that. It did make it easier than watching him wander out stark naked. But above the waistband resting on his narrow hips, her eyes wandered along the plane of his lean, sloping chest; firm muscles bulging against the outline of his shoulders and arms; the sharp edge of his jaw drew her gaze up to his eyes-

His eyes gleaming in the low light.

She swallowed.

“I hope this is alright,” he said.

Allura blinked, pulling her attention back to his face and voice again. “Wha?”

He gestured vaguely to his body, and every inch of exposed skin she could make out in the evening light. “I elected to remove my armor entirely…” He let a crooked smile slip onto his face. “In the interest of…comfort.”

It was hard to put into words just how much she appreciated that. The thought of him grinding against her in that hard pointed armor was just too unpleasant to linger on.

Bare skin on the other hand…

Well, she elected not to think too much about that. For other reasons aside from her _comfort._

“It’s fine,” she heard herself say. Suddenly she was all too aware of the draft hitting her knees and thighs. It would be easy to let her legs part, close her eyes and let him take her until it was done, but Lotor didn’t move an inch toward the bed.

“Queen Allura-“

“Just Allura for now, please,” she insisted. All things considered, the titles seemed almost like overkill.

“Allura,” he breathed, almost reverently. “There is one thing I think I should mention.”

Was that a splash of dark violet spreading across his cheeks? Or perhaps just a trick of the light. “Yes?”

“If I may be blunt.”

“Considering what we’re about to do, I think it’s warranted.” The smirk found its way onto her face before she could stop it. For a moment she wondered if it was too much, but it seemed to put him at ease. At least if the matching twitch at the corners of his mouth was any indication.

It faded just a tick later. “I don’t…wish to hurt you.”

She pushed herself up on her elbows to get a better look at him. It wasn’t like him to be so soft-spoken, almost nervous. Though she supposed she couldn’t be the only one with her stomach up in knots. “Why would you ever think you’d hurt me?” she asked, brow furrowing as she watched that dark flush creep farther across the bridge of his nose.

“I am…” His claws curled against his palms. “There are parts of me that are…” There was a furrow between his eyebrows, wrinkling as frustration etched itself onto his face. It seemed he wasn’t used to being so clumsy with his words either.

Though she had a feeling she knew what he was trying to say. “Are you trying to tell me there are parts of you that are…more Galra than others?”

“In more ways than one,” he sighed. “I’m not…small, Allura. At least not by Altean standards.”

Did that mean he was small by Galra standards, she wondered? She kept that to herself.

“You won’t hurt me,” she insisted, and with a breath she let her knees part and fought the urge to shiver when the cool night air wafted between her legs. Lotor’s eyes darted to glance under her slip before his gaze locked firmly on her face again. “Come here. It’s okay.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “You’re sure.”

“I was sure when I invited you here,” she told him with a smile. She hoped it wasn’t as anxious as it felt. “Come here.”

Finally, Lotor stepped forward, and even as Allura let her eyes fall closed she could feel the bed dip as he knelt on the edge. His palm pressed carefully against her knee. “I’ll be gentle.”

“You won’t hurt me,” she insisted again, eyes still lightly closed.

But still he added, “Tell me if you’d like me to stop.” His voice was even closer, gentle and quiet. The sound of fabric sliding off of his skin was somehow louder.

She let her eyes open and glanced down and…well, he was certainly anything _but_ small. She couldn’t help but let her gaze wander along the thick, ridged length of it jutting out between his legs from a stretched pink sheath. It seemed he had done more in the other room besides just getting undressed. Perhaps that was for the best.

“Alright?” he quietly asked her. She nodded.

Lotor pressed forward, settling between her legs until the tip of him brushed against her folds. As she bit her lip, he paused, and she could practically feel his eyes on her as he looked for any sign of hesitation.

She gave his arm a squeeze, and he pressed onward and _in._

He let out the slightest sigh as he pushed inside, a sound that he bit back and choked down until all Allura could hear was his shuddering breaths mixing with her own. There was no pain, but the _stretch_ as he breeched her made it hard to draw breath, and it sent her fingers curling against his skin.

She wished for some music, for a storm, for any kind of noise so that she didn’t have to listen to her own breaths as Lotor bottomed out inside her.

“Are you alright?” he finally said, and she looked up to find her field of vision filled by his face. He stared down at her from arm’s length, hair trailing down over his shoulders and his jaw set in a tight, firm line. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, almost out of habit.

“Should I-“

“Can you move?”

Again, their voices mixed clumsily as they both tried to speak at the same moment, but Lotor let out a sigh – one that sounded like one of relief. “I can,” he said. “I can move.”

And move he did, pulling his hips back and pressing forward again in a slow and careful thrust.

It wasn’t unpleasant. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable or _bad._ It was odd, feeling those ridges tugging at her entrance with every rock of his hips, and she couldn’t help but wonder whether those might feel exceedingly _pleasant_ under different circumstances. Yes, they almost – _almost_ \- felt nice, rubbing against her inner walls and massaging spots inside that she’d never had a partner reach before, but she had more on her mind than pleasure, let alone an orgasm.

Like how Lotor’s hair was tickling her chest and neck and…face. Absently, she reached up to brush it away and accidentally caught his eye again.

His face was flushed, his jaw slack, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. He paused. “Do you want me to slow down?” _Oh,_ the roughness in his voice was interesting – a far cry from his usual smooth baritone.

_No, don’t get lost in your thoughts now._

“N-no,” she forced out, staring up at the ceiling again. “No, you can go faster. If you’d like. If you need to.”

“Faster?” His voice wavered.

Stars, she just wanted this to be done with. So that she could stop forcing herself not to think of how incredible it would sound for someone to say her name in such a delicious _growl._

“Lotor.” She made herself look up at him again. He gazed at her from behind a fringe of long, messy bangs. She squeezed his arm. “Whatever you need…it’s fine. You can let go. Really.”

Let go. Drop the masks of _emperor_ and _queen_ for just a few dobashes. Stop treating her like she was fragile, like he was going to hurt her if he didn’t hold himself back.

“You can let go,” she said again, like a promise, and she swore she saw relief in his eyes.

Lotor let out the quietest hint of a groan as he tucked his face against the crook of her neck and breathed deep, taking in her scent and making her shiver when his hair tickled her skin. His fingers curled against the sheets, claws gripping at the fabric, his rhythm picking up again – faster, harder, wilder-

She bit her lip as he muffled a moan against her shoulder. His hips stuttered, pressing forward, pushing as deep into her as he could as he quivered and gasped and spilled himself inside of her. For those few moments, she held him, feeling his muscles tense and then go slack against her, and he let out a sigh, hot on her neck.

And that, she supposed, was that.

He got dressed in silence, his silhouette cast against her bedroom wall from the other room. As he did, Allura straightened her nightgown, tucked a pillow under her hips and lay there under her covers…contemplating.

It had been all she’d asked for. All she’d needed. Quick and efficient and…undeniably awkward. But she had seen that coming a mile away. Awkwardness, at least, she could handle. At least she told herself that much as Lotor finally stepped out from the other room again, boots thumping against the floor.

There was a residual flush on his face, and whether that was from the last bit of his afterglow still clinging to him or from the sight of her lying there in her nightgown with her hips elevated, she wasn’t quite sure. He smoothed back his hair – or at least attempted to. “You’re-“ He cleared his throat. “I suppose that’s…all you needed from me tonight?”

She nodded, choosing not to linger on how _cold_ it seemed, despite the circumstances – kicking him out of her bedroom in the middle of the night after…that. “The guest quarters are just down the hall.”

“I appreciate the offer,” he said with a little shake of his head. “But I’ll most likely be making my way back to the cruiser.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“As much as I would love to extend my stay in Altiran, duty does call.” After a moment, the flush on his face turned a bit darker and he added, “Elsewhere.”

Well, it hardly mattered. The chances of her conceiving didn’t grow if he stayed for breakfast the next morning. “I understand.” Out of habit, she straightened her shoulders and folded her hands in her lap, as if she was sitting in the royal meeting hall instead of in her bed with her hair a mess and a wet spot cooling under her legs. “Safe travels, then.”

There was more she wanted to say, even if she couldn’t find the words as he turned to go. _Thank you_ felt too…diplomatic. Too informal. Like he had just offered her a bottle of wine instead of his seed.

“I’ll be in touch soon,” she said instead, and he glanced back at her, half turned toward the door. “With news. Either way.”

Even in the low light, she could see him swallow.

He nodded once more – curt and polite, before offering a quick bow and heading for the door. And as she watched him go, Allura hoped to herself it would take, even as unlikely as it was on the first attempt. After all, she certainly didn’t want to have the emperor of the Galra in her bed any more than absolutely necessary.

A tiny voice, almost indiscernible, spoke up in the back of her mind: _Liar._

She quickly snuffed it out.


	3. Chapter 3

“Ya know,” Ezor chimed from the other side of the star map as she meticulously trimmed her nails with the edge of her blade, “The next time we need to take a trip to Altea, I’d like to tag along. I want to see that big castle myself.”

Zethrid shrugged. “You’ve seen one castle, you’ve seen them all.”

Lotor squinted at the lines and points indicating their borders and outposts along the edge of the empire’s territory. Right at the edge of the farthest corner was Schulzar, as quiet as ever. He frowned. “Acxa,” he said, “When you went to investigate the moon base, did you find any traces of warp engine exhaust?”

“No.” Her eyes flashed up at him from her own screen. “If I remember correctly, that was in my report.”

His frown deepened.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Acxa sighed a moment later, and Ezor stopped her infernal nail trimming to glance up at them both. It seemed the conversation was suddenly more interesting than her cuticles.

“When have I ever denied you that?” Lotor replied.

“I think you’re focused too closely on Schulzar.”

“It _was_ the last place Sendak was spotted,” Zethrid offered.

“One of Sendak’s _ships,_ ” Acxa corrected. “And it was long gone before we ever got there. There was no sign they were ever using the moon base for any sort of operation – no sign they ever spent any significant amount of time in Schulzar at all. It’s a quiet sector, sir. Always has been. Just a handful of quintessence-sapped planets waiting to become a weblum’s next meal.”

Lotor banished the star map with a wave of his hand and turned to face her. “Where, then, do you think we should be focusing our efforts instead?”

“Right here,” Acxa told him.

“Central command?”

“The heart of the empire. If Sendak is planning something, he’ll be planning to strike close to home. He’ll be looking for an opening, or any sign of weakness. He won’t challenge you openly, not when there’s a chance he could lose.”

Ezor carefully lowered her blade. “The Fire of Purification did manage to get a spy into central command once before…”

Oh, Lotor was all too aware. Just movements after he’d taken the throne, the Fire of Purification struck hard and fast, making their existence and their intentions clear with a blade sunk right into his stomach. But as pure and hot as the pain had been, it hadn’t been enough to kill him. Of course, that was hardly a surprise.

“Sendak won’t send someone else to take my life,” he said. “The only acceptable victory to him at this point will be to kill me with his own two hands.”

“ _One_ hand,” Zethrid chimed, holding back a sneer.

Lotor straightened, tapping his claws against the table as he turned toward the window. The stars blinked back at him like diamonds against black velvet. Oddly comforting. “If he attempts to kill me, it won’t be a quiet affair. He doesn’t just want me dead – he wants to send a message to the entire empire that I was never fit to rule in the first place. Which is precisely why I’m hardly worried about a threat from the inside. Poison in my drink or a blade slicing my neck open while I sleep wouldn’t sate Sendak’s desire to see me brought low.”

“You think he’s amassing some kind of army?” Zethrid hazarded. “Getting ready for a head-on attack? Like that would ever work…he could build a hundred ships every quintant starting today and he’d dry up into an old husk before he could ever take on the Galra armada.”

A humorless smile crept onto Lotor’s face. “Tell me, Zethrid…if you were facing an enemy far larger and stronger than you could ever hope to best alone, how would you claim an unlikely victory?”

“A good fist to the face never hurt.”

“Divide and conquer,” Acxa added. “Assuming we’re talking about an army and not some big brute down in the fighting pits. But either way…you look for an opening and strike at the heart.”

“Sir!” All eyes turned toward the door as it slid open, and the guard hovering in the doorway straightened up with a firm salute. “My apologies for interrupting, my emperor-“

“Less apologizing, more explanation,” Lotor sighed.

“There’s a message for you, sir. From ah…from the queen of Altea.”

Behind him, Ezor whistled. He ignored that. “Thank you. You’re dismissed.” He glanced back at his generals. “All of you.”

“I can’t even get a glimpse of that big castle on the screen?” Ezor said with a pout, but Acxa was already tugging on her arm and heading for the door.

“Come on – Narti’s waiting for us on the training deck anyway.”

“Here’s hoping for good news,” Zethrid said with a wink, and Lotor resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

His stomach flipped anyway when he considered the meaning behind those words. Allura had promised to call with _news_ after all, and after that first – admittedly _feeble_ on his part – attempt, he couldn’t help but wonder what news she was bringing. Of course he hoped for success. Of _course_ he did. Even if it meant that the first awkward, fumbling time he ever spent in the queen’s bed would also be the last.

Her smile was as warm and welcoming as ever when it lit up the screen, and he felt his own spread across his face in reply. “Queen Allura,” he greeted with a slight bow of his head.

“I hope this isn’t a bad time,” she said.

“Of course not. I assume you’re calling because…”

“Well, I won’t let you wonder long.” Her smile faltered, only for a moment, her gaze downcast and hiding halfway behind her bangs. “I ah…well, I suppose it’s not exactly good news. Though not particularly surprising.”

 “Our first attempt wasn’t quite as…fruitful as you’d hoped?”

“Unfortunately not.”

Perhaps their first time wouldn’t be their last after all. He refused to let any excitement show through on his face. “I must admit I’m hardly shocked.”

“You and I both. Still, I’m far from discouraged. Though it does mean I’ll need to ask for your help again. When you’re able to make the trip.”

Void preserve him, he couldn’t deny a small surge of excitement that rushed through his belly at the thought, but it was replaced by something colder and more sour just a moment later. It must have showed on his face, because Allura frowned.

“Is that…not something you want?”

It hardly mattered what he _wanted._ His foolish little desires were driven by little more than sheer instinct, and there were far more important factors at play here. Far more _delicate_ ones at that. But his own hormones aside, he couldn’t get the image out of his head of Allura’s brow pinched, lips tight, avoiding his eye at all costs as he rutted away inside of her like a clumsy young buck.

Granted, that was all they _needed_ in the grand scheme – a simple exchange of bodily fluids hardly needed any added flair. But still…it was the _principle_ of the thing. Finally, he told her, “On one condition, if I may.”

Her brows rose. “Condition?”

“Our first attempt was…” _Messy. Awkward. Inept._ “…well, it was _efficient,_ I suppose. But I can’t help but feel like it left a fair bit to be desired. That _I_ did, to be precise.”

“Emperor Lotor…if you’re worried I’m passing judgment on your _performance-_ “

“My ego is the least of my worries, Queen Allura. My concern is rather…” He sighed. There had to be an easier way to put this into words, but holo-screens had never lent themselves to sincerity.

Finally, he settled on the words: “For better or for worse, you’ll not soon forget how your child was conceived. And it seems to me it may be a shame if the memory you have of something so important is nothing more than you closing your eyes and waiting for it to be over.”

A flush crept across her supple cheeks. “Oh…” She wove her fingers together in front of her stomach, thumbs twirling round and round each other like a thoughtful little dance. “I suppose it was rather…awkward. I’d thought that much would be unavoidable, to be perfectly honest. Not that it was _unpleasant-_ ”

“Surely we can do better than _not unpleasant_ ,” he said with a playful grin, trying to keep his tone lighthearted. It got a smile out of her, and his chest buzzed with pride. “My condition, Allura…I’d like to…make it better for you. I’d like you to enjoy yourself, if you can.”

That flush spread even farther across the bridge of her nose, and Lotor couldn’t help but wonder if the same pristine pink tint would grace her cheeks when she gave herself over to exquisite pleasure. “E-enjoy myself?”

“My I be blunt, Queen Allura?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

He let his tongue trace across the line of his fangs for a moment, claws curling against his palms. Yes, that flush in her cheeks was a dusky, rosy hue – beautiful and pure. He could think of nothing more gorgeous than watching it spread down the column of her lean neck, over the expanse of her chest. “The next time we’re together, let me pleasure you properly.”

She drew a breath. A shaky one. Her teeth toyed with her bottom lip. “Is that…really so important to you?”

Important? More than that. How could he live with himself if he passed up the chance to make a queen come for him? “It is.”

“Then…” She cleared her throat. It did little to even out the breathy, rough undertone of her voice. “Then I think I can accept those terms.”

Lotor smiled and nodded. “Excellent.”

“Could you return to Altiran in two movements? I know it may be short notice for you, but-“

“I’ll be there.” He made the promise without a second thought or hesitation, a smile stretching across his face.

Even as he signed off with the queen, he couldn’t help but play host to a myriad of thoughts running rampant through his mind – ideas upon ideas about just how he could hold up his end of their new bargain. How he could pleasure her properly. With his mouth. With his hands. With every part of himself he could imagine.

He wondered what she would look like, sound like, _taste_ like when she came.

_Bury that impulsiveness, now._

The stern warning rang through his mind and chased all of his fantasies away in an instant. For the best, he presumed. There were more risks than he cared to admit that came with mixing business with pleasure. Risks that could multiply too rapidly than he could afford if he didn’t keep them in check.

He turned on his heel toward the door, and just as the screen behind him dimmed, the door slid open. He sighed. “Ah…Dayak-“

“Cutting your meeting short, it seems,” she huffed as the doors closed behind her again. “I take it you reached a consensus on how to handle this situation with the shameful _Fires of Purification._ ”

She spat out the name like it tasted foul. Her fingers flexed around the hilt of her crop, like they remembered the feeling of his blood seeping through them as she’d pressed her palm against his wounds and commanded him not to die.

Luckily for him, that day had not been the day he disobeyed his governess.

“It’s…complicated, I’m afraid.”

“Complicated,” she repeated, frown deepening until the lines around her mouth looked like they’d break her face in two. “Sendak is a blight on the empire. I’m ashamed to even call him Galra at all, coward that he is. Sending assassins to do his dirty work and hiding in the shadows like a common fugitive…”

“I spent my share of time as a fugitive myself,” he reminded her.

Dayak rose a brow. “Are you suggesting you’re the same as that traitor to the throne?”

“No.” He folded his hands behind him. “But I was a traitor too.”

Dayak’s lips thinned until there was nearly nothing left of them. Then she drew in a long, careful breath, and straightened her shoulders. “Ezor mentioned something about you making another _appointment_ with the queen of Altea. Spending a good amount of time with that woman now, aren’t you? Two visits to Altea in as many phoebs…”

“I assure you, it’s official business and nothing more.”

“ _Nothing_ more? Are you certain?”

“Dayak-“

“When you appointed me as your advisor, I was not so naïve as not to realize it was intended to be in name only. After all, the Blood Emperor takes no advisors and bows to no one, let alone his governess. But be that as it may, I saw you from childhood to manhood, and I will not abandon my duties to you now.” Her eyes flashed. “And as your appointed advisor, symbolic or no, I must be frank with you and voice my opinion that your running off to Altea is needlessly reckless and cause for concern.”

Reckless? Perhaps. But needlessly? No.

He rose a brow. “You think?”

“I do. Don’t misunderstand me, Blood Emperor – I realize a burgeoning alliance with Altea is a long time coming. I may even go so far as to say it’s _refreshing_ after so many deca-phoebs of bloodshed and destruction. But with alliances come risks, particularly with rebels like Sendak and his ludicrous _Fire_ searching for any chance to knock you to your knees.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m putting Altea in danger?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m suggesting no such thing. But you would be a fool not to consider it-“

“And what makes you think I _haven’t_ considered it?” His claws pressed against his palms as he squared his shoulders, anger flaring in his chest. “Surely you know me better than that, Dayak. You raised me after all. Do you truly think so little of your own skills as a teacher to assume I wouldn’t _consider_ the consequences of my actions?”

His words came out more as a hiss than anything else, and Dayak stood as stone-like as ever, watching him with her lips pressed into a firm line and her hands folded neatly before her. Lotor drew in a breath. _Bury that impulsiveness…_

“Forgive my outburst-“

“No.” He opened his eyes and found her staring at him intently, a familiar fire in her eyes. “There is nothing for me to forgive, Blood Emperor. The fault is mine for stepping out of line so easily.”

Dayak? Admitting defeat? Never. Lotor felt a smile slip onto his lips. “You did teach me well, you know,” he told her, feeling the tightness of the scar on his belly when he stood up straight once again and folded his arms behind his back. “Tell me, what do you know of Altean defensive technology, Dayak?”

Confusion flitted across her face. “Quite little, I admit. Other than that it’s quite formidable.”

“Formidable,” he laughed. “That’s certainly one word for it.” With a wave of his hand he brought up a holo-image of the planet Altea, with its many silver rings surrounding the sphere. “The Great Rings of Altea, built a hundred generations ago by an ancient Altean general by the name of Hoggex. Not a king, but a strategist.”

One flick of his wrist later and the rings in the hologram lit up silver and white, encasing the planet in a glistening shell. Dayak looked on, brow knit with fascination. She almost looked impressed.

“The Ring Barrier,” Lotor continued. “An impenetrable defense drawing energy from the planet’s very core, as well as its sun. Efficient enough to outlast a siege spanning three generations and powerful enough to vaporize any enemy ship that makes the mistake of getting too close.”

“And you’re educating me on such matters because?”

“Merely to show you that Altea is not a defenseless colony planet in need of protecting.” He removed the holo-image, but his satisfied smile remained. “The Altean people make no easy targets, and their queen will buckle even less easily than the shields surrounding her planet.”

Dayak studied him, one brow slowly rising as her fingers tapped against the knuckles of her opposite hand. “I never said I doubted the queen of Altea. But you do seem quite… _impressed_ by her.”

For a tick or two, Lotor could only blink, and she didn’t give him the chance to reply before she gave him a curt bow and turned to leave.

“Bury any impulsiveness that threatens to well up within you, Blood Emperor,” she said. “That’s all the advice I care to give, and I’m sure all that you’re interested in hearing for now.”

Impressed, he mused. Yes, perhaps he was. Perhaps he had always been. Surely that wasn’t a bad thing – not when Allura was indeed so very _impressive._

But the way Dayak said it made it sound like she meant something very different. And _that_ was a thought he certainly pushed deep down into his chest before it could see the light of day.

* * *

They reached Altiran two movements later to the quintant, and Ezor bounded off of the ship before Lotor could even stretch out the crick in his neck from the journey. “It’s just as big as Zethrid said!” she sang, eyes gleaming as she stared up at the castle. “Maybe even bigger! I wonder how many rooms there are – at least five hundred!”

“Seven hundred and seventy-six, to be exact,” Coran chimed. “You must be another of Emperor Lotor’s generals, unless I’m mistaken.”

“Ezor,” Lotor said as he greeted the queen’s advisor with a bow of his head. “It’s good to see you again, Seneschal.”

Coran twirled his mustache around one finger in delight. “Brushing up on your formal Altean titles, have you been?” he chuckled. “Been a long time since someone used that one.”

Lotor swore he sounded impressed. As Ezor seemed to be resisting every impulse in her body to sprint headlong into the castle and begin cataloguing each of the seven hundred and seventy-six rooms, he noticed that Allura was nowhere in sight. Coran had come to greet them alone, save for the royal guards flanking him.

He seemed to notice the confusion flitting across Lotor’s face, because the next words out of Coran’s mouth were: “Queen Allura is waiting for you in the royal archive room. Told me to send you straight there to meet her once you’d arrived and had the chance to freshen up.”

“I don’t need to freshen anything, but I _would_ love a tour,” Ezor said with a grin, eyes gleaming. “How many bathrooms are there in the castle? No wait, let me guess – fifty? One hundred? No, don’t tell me until I get it right-“

“The royal archives, you said?” Lotor interjected, though Coran seemed all too prepared to give Ezor a tour of all fifty or one-hundred bathrooms in the castle if she wanted.

“In the south wing,” Coran said as he lead them inside, and he turned toward a pair of guards by the doors. “Escort Emperor Lotor to the archive entrance. The queen’s expecting him.”

The archives no easy task to find – if not for the escort he easily could have gotten himself lost in the winding halls at least three stairways back. But before long he found himself standing in the foyer of a grand library, warmly lit by sconces along every wall and lined with hundreds upon hundreds of books and holo-readers. It seemed to go on for miles, like an endless labyrinth of knowledge, and waiting for him at the base of the curving staircase leading down into its belly was Queen Allura.

“I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t come out to meet you at your ship,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I claimed that I was immersed in research, but truth be told I woke with a headache this morning and ship exhaust has always done nothing but exacerbate them…”

She looked almost sheepish, and Lotor’s brow pinched with worry. “If you’re ill…”

“Not ill, I promise you. Nothing that some juniberry root tea can’t help.” She carefully placed her empty cup on the wide table by the staircase. “It gives me the chance to show you around the archives. I had a feeling you might find it rather…stimulating.”

Stimulating indeed. Lotor felt like his entire body was buzzing just from the sight of such knowledge all gathered in one place. He’d heard legends of historical archives like this on Altea, expansive wealths of information that was more than a person could ever hope to absorb in ten thousand lifetimes.

Lotor let his gaze track along the tall arching ceiling as he breathed, “What I would give to meet the mind that built this castle.”

“You should spend more time with Coran,” Allura said fondly. “That very mind came from his family. His great great grandfather I think.” She pressed the pad of her finger against her lip, her brow furrowing. “Or perhaps I’m one ‘great’ short.”

He let a chuckle escape him. “Your advisor must be quite close to you. As he was to your father, I presume.”

For a moment, Lotor wondered about the gamble of mentioning her late father, but instead of looking forlorn, Allura’s eyes lit up. “You should have seen them together,” she said with a grin. “Coran and my father were almost like brothers. He’s as much family as anyone I share blood with. Few as they are now.” Just a tick later, her gaze softened, her smile fading just enough for him to notice. “I know my father asked Coran to look after me when he realized his health was failing him. He never would have told me as much, because I would have been the first to insist I didn’t need looking after.” She let her finger trail along the spines of the books lining the nearest shelf, her gaze far away as she studied them – like she was looking straight through them instead of at the letters printed on their bindings. “Still…when my father died, Coran was there for me. He held me up when my legs threatened to give out and always had a handkerchief handy when needed.”

“I’d imagine it was quite the comfort,” he finally said, and it pulled her out of her strange little trance.

“Yes.” Allura let out a sigh. “I only wish I could have comforted him as much…after all, he lost a brother the same day I lost my father.”

There was a part of him – a small, but insistent part – that wanted to reach out to comfort her. A hand on her arm or a brush against her wrist. Nothing more than a reminder that she wasn’t as alone as that look in her eye made her seem. He curled his fingers against his palm instead, letting his claws press against his own skin. “He doesn’t seem like the type to hold that much against you.”

That got a laugh out of her, and it warmed Lotor’s chest. “He’s not. He’s not the type to hold a grudge against _anyone._ Except, well…maybe my father for never once letting him win at a sparring match. Coran never quite let that go.”

As she smiled, her eye wandered to a long, polished rapier between two arching shelves. Allura took a few quick steps toward it and looked up at its shining point with her hands folded neatly before her. Above the weapon was a portrait of the late king himself, younger than Lotor had ever seen him and sporting barely the beginnings of a bit of scruff on his chin. He held the rapier sheathed at his hip.

“Did you ever step into the ring yourself?” he found himself asking, and Allura blinked at him, as if in surprise.

“No,” she said. “Not with a sword, no.”

He couldn’t help but smirk. “What _is_ your weapon of choice then?”

A hint of pink spread across her cheeks, hiding with her smile behind a lock of her hair as she turned her head. “Is this always what you bring up in polite conversation? Battle and weaponry?”

“And discussion of strategy too, at times.” It surprised him, how easy it was to let a smile of his own settle on his face. “Humor me, your grace. Even on Altean soil, my Galra blood runs true. And you’ve piqued my interest.”

Her eyes darted toward the hallway, lit up like a young girl’s with excitement and glee. With a nod of her head she led him down the line of shelves, past rows and rows of books until she stopped and took one in her hands. She brushed off a thin layer of dust. “If your interest is truly so piqued…” Lotor leaned over her shoulder as she opened it and thumbed through the pages. Finally, she settled on one, and he let out a breath.

There at the center of the page was a picture – a woman, standing tall and strong with her dark skin lit up by the mid-morning sun. The spray of the waterfall behind her made her seem to glow, accentuating the lines of her muscles as she drew back the bowstring of an impressive, ornate bow. Her eyes gleamed with concentration, with _determination._ They were as bright as the sun itself.

“By fury,” he breathed. “Is that…is this you?”

“No,” she giggled. “My mother. Queen Melenor. Before she had me. This was taken not long before she and my father married.”

The late queen, of course. Looking at her now, it seemed impossible not to see it. And yet he could see whispers of Allura in her as well – her wavy white hair, the marks on her cheeks, the fire in her eyes, and the slope of her jaw. But as he marveled, Allura turned the pages again, until she stopped on another picture near the back of the tome, and _this_ one there was no mistaking as anyone else.

“ _This_ one my father insisted on keeping,” she said, that flush still high on her cheeks as Lotor stared at the image on the page. This one was of Allura herself – much younger and more petite than she was now, with her hair just barely brushing her jaw and her smile wide and toothy. She held a bow proudly, almost like a trophy.

“The bow,” Lotor mused. “Was it hers?”

Allura’s fingers brushed against the page. “It was.” She pressed the book into his hands and let him marvel at it as she stepped to the side and nodded toward the far wall. The familiar bow was mounted there, its mother-of-pearl shine still gleaming in the firelight. “That picture was a year or so after she passed. She taught me what she could about how to handle the bow, but the rest I taught myself. I suppose it was a way for me to stay connected to her.”

Lotor glanced at the bow on the wall. It seemed that it hadn’t seen battle in a long time. _Perhaps for the best,_ he told himself, and yet he couldn’t keep from feeling inexplicably sad at the thought of such a magnificent weapon going unused.

As if she could sense his thoughts, Allura said, “I’m afraid ruling doesn’t leave much time for the sparring ring. Or target practice.”

“Skills like that never truly disappear,” he told her as he reverently shut the book and pushed it back into its place on the shelf. “I’m sure if you take up the bow again you’ll find you’re just as good a shot as you ever were.”

“I _did_ manage to become quite a good shot.”

“I have no doubt.”

He very much hoped he would one day get to see it.

* * *

They spent longer than either of them had intended in that archive room, until the sun began to set outside. And here they were again, facing each other across her bedroom with moonlight filtering through her sheer curtains. Allura sat on the edge of her bed, still in her dress, wondering if she should bother changing into her nightgown at all this time.

He had said he wanted it to be more pleasurable. And skin on skin certainly sounded _very_ much so…

Lotor’s claws tapped against the surface of his armor, a quiet little knocking that sounded deafening in the quiet night. “You remember my terms?” he asked with a slight tilt of his head. “What we discussed before…are you still willing to try?”

Try…He made it sound as if she would have to put in a great deal of effort. But considering just _what_ he was suggesting, it seemed that most of the effort would be on _his_ part.

Of course, that wasn’t entirely a bad thing…

She swallowed against the flip in her stomach and folded her hands in her lap to avoid fidgeting. “What did you have in mind?” She couldn’t deny she was intrigued. Perhaps a bit _more_ than just intrigued.

“Perhaps it would be better if I-“ He cleared his throat, presenting his hand, palm up. An invitation. Or maybe a request. “-showed you. If you’d allow me to take the lead for now.” She stared at his hand, at those claws and their neatly filed points that gleamed in the light before they retracted back into his fingertips. Gingerly, she reached out and layered her hand over his. “May I, Queen Allura?”

His voice…so smooth and rich. Listening to it made her feel like she was tasting decadent chocolate or sinking into a warm bath. She drew in a shaky little breath. “Yes,” she said. “Yes you may.”

He hummed, a quiet, thoughtful sound that she could feel against her neck as he leaned closer. His hand was careful and precise as it made its way around her back and found the zipper of her dress and pulled it down. The moment the draft hit her bare shoulders she shivered, and not from the cold. He peeled the dress from her in one easy motion, so smoothly that Allura barely felt the drag of it against her skin – but _oh,_ his fingers grazing her bare shoulders felt like fire to her.

He paused just a moment to let her step out of her dress, and when she looked up at him again he was already folding it neatly and draping it over the back of the armchair by the window. “Can’t have that getting creased,” he mused, and she fought back a laugh.

“We can’t,” she agreed. Suddenly she was all too aware of how exposed she was, in nothing but her slip and underwear. Not much different from her nightgown from the first time, and yet she wasn’t lying back, waiting for him, passive on the bed. Now, she stood before him with the moonlight peeking through the sheer fabric.

Lotor’s eyes flashed, hungry. His fingers flexed at his sides.

“You – ah…Queen Allura, you’re quite…”

Shy? That wasn’t like him. He was usually so eloquent that watching him struggle for the right words seemed almost alien. And was that a violet flush on his cheeks? Before she could help it, Allura let out a giggle. “There’s no need to dwell on formalities, you know.” Riding the wave of her newfound boldness, she stepped forward, toward him. “We’ve already done this once. It should be easier the second time around, don’t you think?”

In theory, at least. But her heart was racing so quickly she wondered if he could hear her pulse thudding in her ears. She reached for his hand, let her fingers track over his palm and felt it flex as his claws peeked out once more.

Then, just a tick later, his breath was on her neck. His lips – his _teeth_ grazed her skin, and her knees wobbled precariously under her weight before he guided her down onto the edge of the bed. All shyness gone, it seemed, he muttered, “I’d like to take things slow this time. If you’d let me.”

“S-slow…” No other words came to her mind. They had all flown away the moment Lotor started doing such _phenomenal_ things with his mouth against her neck. Stars, how long had it been since she’d experienced such undivided, passionate attention? And he still hadn’t removed a single piece of his armor yet. “Yes…yes, slow…”

She would have been happy to have him see to her like this for vargas. All night, even. When he pressed gently against her shoulder and pushed her down onto the sheets she felt she could have melted into them right then and there.

Could he feel her moan vibrating against his lips? He must have heard it at the very least. “When was the last time someone saw to your pleasure properly?” he mused, and then a moment later he shook his head. “Ah…no, don’t answer. It’s not my place to ask-“

“Too long,” she insisted before hooking her hand around the back of his head and tugging him back down to her neck once more. “ _Far_ too long.”

His armor fell piece by piece to the floor by her bed. It seemed he didn’t care about scuffing it nearly as much as he’d cared about creasing her dress. When he was down to the form-fitting undersuit beneath the plates, he sat up on his knees, and Allura realized for the first time that he had settled quite snugly between her legs.

He grasped the zipper at the side of his neck and pulled it down, down the long, _long_ length of his body until he could peel it off entirely. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen him bare except for his underwear, but it was the first time she allowed her eyes to truly wander. The first time she allowed herself to _savor_ the sight, because it certainly was a sight worth savoring. The emperor of the Galra was lean and strong, with long limbs and smooth lilac skin – save, she noticed, for the darker plate-like scales along his shoulders. Those were jagged and rough, asymmetrical as though they’d been filed down. She hadn’t noticed them before, intent as she’d been on keeping her eyes and hands anywhere but on him.

They called a memory to her mind of Zarkon, with sharp, defined ridges adorning every inch of him not covered by armor.

A tick later, Lotor shifted, until the ridges were covered by deep blue shadow again. And a tick after _that,_ his mouth was back on her, trailing up her jaw this time. She found herself thoroughly distracted from all thoughts of Zarkon or anything else besides the feeling of his lips against her skin.

“Relax,” he breathed. “Let your mind wander if you like, but please…relax and allow me to see to you properly.”

Despite the way her breath shuddered when she pulled it in, she managed a laugh. “It’s not often I can let myself – _ah –_ indulge in such things.”

“Then indulge tonight.” He nuzzled against her jawline. A Galra habit, she wondered? In any case, she was happy to let him _indulge_ in it too.

His fingers gently tracked up her thighs until they found the edge of her underwear, and he pulled back again just enough to look her in the eye. She needed only nod before he tugged them down and dropped them next to his armor on the floor.

Not concerned with creasing anymore, it seemed. No matter – neither was she.

But instead of removing his own undergarments and seeing to matter at hand, he began a slow descent down over her collarbones, her chest, her stomach. Allura pushed up on her elbows to stare down at them, her hair wild and her face flushed. “What are you-“

“Seeing to you,” he said, as simply as if he were telling her the weather. “If you rather I didn’t-“

“No!” That word burst out of her so powerfully she almost swayed. “No…you may. Please. Go on.”

Biting her lip, she settled back against the pillows, and Lotor continued down…down over her stomach and hip, gingerly lifting the hem of her slip until she parted her knees for him. The draft was…interesting, to say the least. But she forgot all about the slight chill when it was replaced by his _hot_ breath against her inner thigh.

Then fingers. Long and careful and gentle. Brushing her clit and making her bite her lip. And a moment later…tongue. Tongue. Rough, warm tongue replacing the pad of his finger and sweeping a slow, tight circle overtop of her clit.

She muffled a whimper into the palm of her hand.

His palm rubbed the inside of her thigh, his callouses soothing her with every pass. “There’s no need for that, Allura.”

Her hand fled her lips as quickly as it had found them. “What?”

“No need to quiet yourself or hold yourself back. I wouldn’t dream of stifling you like that. Please…allow me the honor of hearing you.”

Her teeth caught her lip, her fingers curling against the sheets instead of against her mouth when he got back to work between her legs. She’d never thought she’d ever find out what his tongue could do beyond give glorious speeches – it hadn’t been part of the plan that required little more than a few minutes of simple friction and little pleasure on her part. She hadn’t let herself even stop and wonder. It would have been a waste of her time and energy. But this – oh, _this_ was the best unexpected turn she could imagine. Lotor letting his tongue and lips dance and press over her flesh in such exquisite ways.

So exquisite that that she couldn’t help but moan when tilted his head and did _something_ with his tongue that made stars explode behind her eyes. He growled in reply, like the sound itself was decadent to him, and the points of his claws grazed her thigh.

 _Let me pleasure you properly,_ he’d said. And he was certainly rising to that occasion with vigor.

Before she could stop herself her hand was reaching down to grip a fistful of his hair, and he held her thighs firmly as she tugged, like they were both fighting for control. He pulled her close, as if he couldn’t get enough of her, and anchored her there against him as she shook, moaned, and _came-_

She barely noticed his fingers releasing her thighs and wrapping around her own hands until she started to come down again, what felt like eons later. Her lungs burning and her face blazing, she slowly opened her eyes to find him hovering over her with his lips shiny and wet and his eyes fiery. “Thank you,” he panted, and Allura let out a breathless laugh.

“I feel I should be saying as much to _you._ ” She offered a lopsided smile. “All things considered…”

He hummed, a thoughtful little noise that was muffled into the crook of her neck. She could feel him against her thigh even through the thin fabric still covering him – hard and hot, his ridges rubbing against her skin as he rocked his hips.

Mind still pleasantly fogged over, she sluggishly reached up to urge him back to eye level. “We’re not done, remember?” she managed, and his eyes flashed.

“Oh, as if I could ever forget.” He hesitated, only for a tick, one hand resting on the hem of his underwear. “Do you…need a moment?”

“No. No, I’m fine.” _More_ than fine, she wanted to insist. She swore it was as if her body wanted to scream to the heavens how elated it was for such exquisite release after so long without it. But they had a job to see to, and she couldn’t deny that she was eager for more reasons than that alone. “Please, go on.”

He didn’t hesitate for a moment more before tugging the last of his clothing off and shuffling forward on the sheets, the sound of skin against soft fabric deafening compared to the quiet evening breeze. She didn’t need to look down and see for herself to know that he was hard – she swore she felt him _throb_ against the apex of her thigh as he lined himself up.

It was easier this time – _miles_ easier – to let him slide inside. Her body was still thrumming from her own climax, eager and pliant, and Lotor groaned as he bottomed out with ease, and _that,_ she thought, was a sound she could get used to. She smiled as she rested her hands on his arms, feeling his muscles flex under his skin.

 _Smiled._ Imagine that. Before, she’d been content to stare at the ceiling until he’d come, but now she was smiling up at him, reveling in the sound of him sighing as he pulled back and pushed forward in that first, long thrust into her. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of her own orgasm clouding her mind, but the awkwardness from that first fumbling attempt seemed to have melted away, all thanks to Lotor’s attentiveness with that talented tongue of his.

She wondered if other parts of him were just as talented. Just a moment later he rocked his hips in a way that made her gasp and her wondering stopped there. No, she was _certain_ his talents ran deep.

“…comfortable, yes?”

She blinked when she caught those words, the rest lost on her. “What?”

Lotor smoothed back his hair, never losing his rhythm. “Are you comfortable?” he asked again, breathless.

 _Oh_ yes, more than just comfortable. The way he was rocking against her and pressing inside of her was so positively _decadent_ that she thought she might even be able to come a second time. She tried to open her mouth to answer – something other than _that_ – but all that came out was a shaking little moan as Lotor shifted his angle and-

“ _Stars-_ “ Her fingers curled against his ribs, and he shot her a smirk.

“I take that as a good sign.”

“Keep going.”

“I was planning on it.”

Of course he managed to be _clever_ even at a time like this. She’d have thought that being inside of her like this might dull his wit. The fact that it didn’t was an oddly pleasant surprise.

Lotor’s breath caught, his rhythm growing staggered and desperate. “Allura,” he grunted, lip curling over his shining, sharp canines. “I’m-“

“I know,” she told him, and as much as she would have liked to come again, they had a goal to see to. She couldn’t get greedy now. “Go on.”

He let out a noise, somewhere between a growl and a whimper, thrusting his hips forward with even more force to push deeper inside of her. The stretch was just this side of divine, the feeling of those ridges catching against her skin with every frantic thrust enough to send a delicious shiver up her spine and make her toes curl. Even though she’d just come not long ago now, that alone was enough to stoke her desire all over again. Perhaps it could even be enough for her to-

The sharp sound of fabric tearing cut through the sound of Lotor’s breath puffing in her ear as he stilled and then shuddered against her, groaning long and loud. It was unlike any sound she’d heard from him before – strangely unhinged and enchanting. A few moments later he pitched forward, barely managing to get his arms under himself to keep all his weight from collapsing on top of her.

Even with desire still throbbing between her legs, Allura managed a laugh. “Are you alright, Emperor?”

Lotor shivered a bit, turning his face to the side until she could make out his face between locks of sweaty silver hair. “Apologies, Queen Allura,” he muttered, voice rough. “Sees I let my ah…instincts get the better of me.”

His eyes pointed sluggishly to her pillow, and when she craned her neck to follow his gaze, she saw the source of the tearing noise from a moment ago: a pair of deep rips in her pillowcase that lined up almost perfectly with his claws.

Lotor pushed himself up, pulling out of her with a quiet sigh and sitting back on his haunches. “I shall strive to make it up to you,” he told her. “And I don’t plan on making a habit of damaging your bedding.”

Considering the fact that he’d made her come just a few dobashes before, Allura thought he had already more than made up for a few tears in her pillowcase. She offered an easy, placating smile. “There’s no need. Really.”

She could feel a trickle of fluid between her legs, and almost instinctively she canted her hips up and let herself fall back against the damaged pillows. She couldn’t forget their goal now. Couldn’t let temptation cloud her judgment.

Not that he was _tempting_ her. An orgasm or two was all well and good – perhaps a well-deserved perk of their goal-oriented coupling. But she wanted little else from him besides what was now running down her thigh.

Lotor cleared his throat, and she was at once intimately aware of the view he was getting – her stretched out naked on the sheets, hips raised off the bed like some kind of erotic display as he sat there on his knees by her feet. She opened her eyes to look at him and found his face stained deep violet. Perhaps from exertion.

“Would you…prefer I go?”

She swallowed. Yes, it was probably for the best, but was it what she _preferred?_ Decidedly not.

 _Now now, don’t let your body get the best of you,_ she chided herself. Orgasm led to a rush of bonding hormones, after all. Things that made one crave contact, heat, softly whispered words. But those weren’t part of their deal. At least not beyond what they had already done.

“You’re more than welcome to stay in the guest quarters this time,” she offered instead, though it felt cold. She tried to mediate it with a smile. “Perhaps stay for breakfast in the morning if you’re able. The sweetmelon from the garden is in season.”

Lotor rose from the bed, reaching for his clothes and dressing slowly. “I’ve never tasted Altean sweetmelon. Galra don’t usually have a taste for sweets.”

 _They may have a taste for something else,_ she thought, remembering how eagerly he’d dove between her legs. She banished that thought as quickly as it had appeared.

“Unfortunately I cannot promise I’ll be able to indulge in breakfast tomorrow,” he said once he’d finished getting dressed, and her heart sank more than she’d expected. “Though I will gratefully make use of the guest quarters for the evening.” He bowed his head. “Good night, Queen Allura.”

As he took his leave, she squeezed her legs tighter together and hoped it would be a fruitful one.

* * *

Early in the morning, Lotor boarded his ship and imagined the first rumbles of its engine shaking dew off the hull. It was truly a beautiful morning. Almost a shame to leave it behind for cold, dark deep space. Breakfast with the queen sounded much more tempting, and yet that was precisely why he could not indulge.

Temptation was the enemy of good business arrangements. Temptation, impulsiveness, and above all, _greed._

Ezor yawned as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and pressed something into his arms. “Here,” she muttered, still only half-conscious, it seemed. “One of the Altean servants brought it out. Said it’s from the kitchen and the queen wanted you to have it.”

Lotor glanced down at the parcel, carefully wrapped in white paper with the royal seal etched in gold underneath the ribbon holding it securely closed. He rose a brow and tugged on the edge of one ribbon, pulling the paper back to reveal a smooth, supple rosy rind.

“What is it?” Ezor asked.

Lotor smiled. “Sweetmelon. They’re in season.”

“The queen gave you a melon?” Her brows drew together. “His this a sex thing?”

“Set a course for command, Ezor.”

“It _is_ a sex thing.”

He took his seat and pulled the rest of the paper away from the fruit, marveling at how satisfyingly heavy it was in his hand. He noticed lines pressed into the rind, following its natural curve, and when he pinched a section of the fruit and pulled, a morsel of it peeled away easily in his fingers. It dripped down over his glove as he brought it to his lips and hummed.

_Delectable._

Ezor huffed as the ship lifted off the ground. “Whatever you’re gonna do to that sex melon, I hope it can wait until we make it back to command.”

Of course he could. He was a patient man. He licked the syrupy sweet nectar from his fingers before wrapping the rest of the melon carefully in its paper and setting it down by his feet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes some discussion of self harm, but nothing explicit.

Allura frowned as she stared at the screen, the results of the latest scan blinking back at her, almost mockingly. She sighed. “Are you sure this is right?”

Pickella nodded, offering a sympathetic smile. “Certain, Queen Allura,” she said, and she turned the screen back toward herself again. “The test is negative.”

“I suppose I can’t be too surprised.” She stood and straightened her dress again, squaring her shoulders and putting on a strong face. She did her best not to let her disappointment show, though she couldn’t be sure how successful she was.

She’d had such a good feeling about their second attempt. Surely, she’d thought, Lotor being as _attentive_ as he was must have bolstered their chances. Now she felt ridiculous for being so naïve. She had known going in that this would not be easy, and only two tries were hardly enough for to break her spirit. Although, perhaps she had – as silly as it may have been – thought that perhaps they would simply get _lucky._

She thanked her doctor with a nod and took her leave, not wanting to linger any longer than she had to. There was no use dwelling on another failed attempt. She couldn’t think of it as failure at all. As her father had always told her, every setback was a chance to grow.

Though that didn’t mean it was any less frustrating.

Thoughts of her father lingered in her mind as she made her way out toward the hanging gardens, glancing upward at the mourning banners still draped across the entryway. She paused there, listening to the soft sound of the water spraying over the delicate vines and leaves overhead, sighing as she stared up at the deep pink tapestries arching above.

“Promise me you won’t give in to melancholy,” he had told her with a tired smile, just two quintants before he’d passed. She could still feel his hand against her cheek and see the heaviness in his eyes as he had looked up at her, so uncharacteristically frail. “When your mother died, I mourned so deeply I almost lost sight of all else. Don’t lose yourself in your pain. It’s all too easy a thing to do.”

Her fingers brushed against her own cheek as the memory of his palm faded as quickly as the last of his strength had those next few cold nights. She felt a pang in her chest, then a hand on her shoulder.

“The old traditions say the mourning banners should stay up at least a deca-phoeb and three nights,” Coran said, staring up at them thoughtfully. “I always thought that was a bit too long for my tastes.”

“They’re a good reminder,” she said, as if out of habit. A reminder of _what,_ she wasn’t sure.

_Don’t lose yourself in your pain…_

Now they seemed to be reminding her of nothing but the worst night of her life.

Coran huffed a bit, muttering, “As if any of us are going to forget what we’ve lost.” But he straightened his shoulders a moment later and drew in a breath. “Yes, those banners have always hung to honor the dead. But as far as I see it, they shouldn’t hinder the living.” His gaze softened as she looked over at him. “Old traditions can be bent if needed.”

Allura smiled. “Encouraging me to break tradition? Who are you and what have you done with my advisor?”

“I’m not _encouraging_ anything! Just… _reminding_ you of your…royal authority!”

Her authority – one word from her and those banners could come down off of every entry of the castle, no matter what the old traditions dictated. It was a tempting thought, she had to admit. But she shook her head. “There’s no need,” she insisted, turning on her heel and heading into the gardens. Coran followed closely behind. “The old traditions are a comfort to many of the people of Altea. I cannot forget that and go bending them left and right on my own whims.”

“Spoken like a true queen,” Coran mused. “When you say things like that, I almost forget I helped clean grass stains out of your dresses when you were a wee thing.”

She fought the urge to pout and lost. “Coran…”

“Oh, don’t mind this old man, your majesty. Just indulging in a stroll down memory lane.” His smile was warm as he fell in step beside her, the two of them meandering down the winding path through the hanging vines. “I think it was right here in these gardens that you first learned to walk. Old Alfor cried until he was red in the face that day. Queen Melenor – Ancients rest her soul – she never let him live it down.”

Allura didn’t bother stifling a laugh. “I think you’re embellishing a bit, Coran. My father was never all that quick to tears.”

“Au contraire – he wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to you.” Coran let out a sigh, studying the sunlight streaming through the glass ceiling above them. He continued a few paces forward before he realized Allura had stopped, and when he turned to face her, his brow pinched. “Allura…” His voice was tinged with concern. “Oh dear…what’s wrong?”

She shook her head and wiped away the tears that had come on too suddenly for her to stop them. _Don’t get lost in your pain,_ she reminded herself again, and she forced a smile. “Nothing but a few memories,” she promised him, and she lowered herself onto a nearby bench and folded her hands in her lap. When she’d collected herself a bit and Coran had settled beside her, she took a steadying breath and said, quietly, “I just came back from the medical wing. I wasn’t pregnant this time either.”

“Ah well…it hasn’t been very long. You’ve got plenty of time to make this work, or find another way.”

“I know. Rationally, I _know –_ I just can’t help feeling…impatient. And-“

Every night that she spent with Lotor in her bed was a risk. She had known it from the very beginning, and he was hardly ignorant of it either. It had been relatively simple, keeping the details of their plans quiet so far, but the longer it went on the harder that would become, and if they drew too much attention…

No, she didn’t want to think about that now. At least not any more than she had to.

She forced a smile instead. “You’re right,” she told him, standing. “I can’t let myself get wrapped up in my own restlessness. And I can’t neglect my duties either. It’s been too long since I had an audience with the people, hasn’t it?’

“Things have been quiet,” Coran said as they fell in step side by side again, making their way down the path under the hanging vines. “Harvest has been good so far. And the upgrades to the outermost great ring have been going swimmingly.”

“The testing should be starting soon, I hope.”

“The preliminary ones are already underway. Of course I hope we’ll never need to use them at all-“

“A ruler always hopes that,” Allura said with a smile. “The great rings have only been activated, what, once in the last hundred deca-phoebs?”

“And now that this blasted war is finally petering out, hopefully it’ll be the same count another hundred deca-phoebs from now,” Coran mused sagely, but then his expression turned somber. “That does remind me…that accident on the outer ring. The young lad who lost his life-“

“Baldur,” Allura finished, frowning. “I remember. I wish we’d discovered that defective power cell earlier.”

“Now, now. Can’t go blaming yourself for that. They call it an accident for a reason.” Coran’s hand rested on her arm, just for a moment, before he folded them behind his back again. “His sister, Romelle came looking for an audience with you today. Didn’t say exactly what it was about, but since she’s still grieving I didn’t want to probe too deeply.”

Her brow pinched. “I think you were right to hold off with that. I’ll see her. Just as soon as I can.”

“She should be waiting in the audience chamber. I asked the kitchen staff to bring her some tea and tarts. She looked like she could use something sweet.”

“As attentive as always,” Allura said with a smile. “I’ll go now.”

She made her way down the corridor, across the open-air bridge connecting the central castle proper with the public audience wing. The bridge overlooked Altiran, glistening in the sunlight across the water, and she walked slowly and took in the view.

She hated this feeling. Keeping something from her people, despite knowing it was for the best. She had heard of the murmurs, rumors spreading through the city about the meaning of the Galra ship coming and going from the castle. She’d done her best to distance herself from them.

They would know the truth in time. When things were settled and plans secured. Until then, she had to live with this feeling, just as she was sure her father and mother had done countless times when it was best for Altea.

The doors opened before her, and she stepped into the nearly empty audience hall. There, at the end of the room, sitting next to an untouched fruit tart and a cup of tea that had long since stopped steaming, was a young blond Altean woman with a crease in her brow and a frown on her face. The moment she saw Allura she stood, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Allura forced herself to smile, as warmly as she could manage. “Romelle,” she said. “Coran mentioned you were hoping for an audience. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“To be honest, your majesty,” the girl said, “I didn’t think you’d have the time to see me today at all.”

“I should be available for my people where I can.” She hesitated a moment, choosing her words carefully. “I…hope you’re managing alright. After your brother-“ Romelle recoiled, her expression turning sour. Allura backtracked. “What is it that you wanted to speak about?”

Instead of answering, Rommel gripped her dress, her knuckles going white as she bit down on her lip. Finally, in a small voice, she said, “He’s been here in the castle, hasn’t he? The prince of the Galra?”

Allura balked. Sure, rumors were common, but to have it thrown in her face so directly, she struggled to keep her expression neutral. Still, she saw no reason to lie. “The emperor of the Galra now,” she said, and Romelle’s frown deepened. “He has come here. Several times now.”

In more ways than one, she caught herself thinking.

Romelle’s face twisted into something that looked almost like disgust, and before she could speak again, Allura continued: “We’ve been discussing our future. Altea and the Galra empire. Now that the war is over we’re both interested in diplomacy-“

“The only _diplomacy_ the Galra know wields a sword and burns cities to the ground,” Romelle muttered, and Allura wondered if the girl knew she could hear her.

“We cannot afford to paint them with such broad strokes.”

“They cannot be trusted!”

“You are _not_ my advisor,” Allura snapped, and Romelle went quiet long enough for her words to echo along the arching walls.

The girl bowed her head. “You’re right,” she whispered. “Forgive me, Queen Allura. I didn’t mean-“

“No,” Allura sighed. “There’s no need to apologize.” She waited for Romelle to meet her eye again, and tried to offer as warm a smile as she could muster. “I know it’s difficult, after what happened to your parents. But Emperor Lotor had nothing to do with the attack on the colony. That was Zarkon’s doing.”

“His _father’s_ doing,” Romelle spat.

“And he is not his father. He’s trying to pick up the pieces of the empire to turn it into something honorable, and holding onto old prejudices will only hold back that progress we all so desperately need.”

Romelle hardly looked convinced. She frowned as she said, “Yes, Queen Allura.”

She wondered if the girl wanted to ask just _what_ Lotor had been doing here, or if he would be back again. But Romelle didn’t ask anything more. Perhaps she already knew that she wouldn’t get any more answers.

Allura _hated_ this feeling.

“I’m sorry,” Romelle finally sighed. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, your majesty.”

“Never. Romelle, you’ve been through so much.”

Allura sat in the chair opposite her and watched as Romelle mirrored her action, sinking down onto the cushions as if her body’s weight had multiplied a thousand times. “When my parents were killed,” she finally said, “I had someone to blame. But when Baldur died…there was nobody to blame. It was an accident. He was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time…”

“We’re doing all we can to prevent that from happening to anyone else,” Allura told her, reaching out to lay her hand on top of hers. “The power cell is being replaced as we speak.”

“Yes…” There was a smile on Romelle’s face, but it was so obviously forced that it made Allura’s heart ache. “Yes, of course. And we’ll be safe from-“ She wanted to say _the Galra._ Allura could see it in her eyes. “…from any who’d wish us harm.”

Stars, she hoped so. And she hoped that all her people would see believe the same. But Allura was not so naïve as to think that Romelle was the only one who still held on to old prejudices, or who had seen the Galra ship coming and going in Altiran.

It was for the best, she told herself as she saw Romelle out, new heaviness weighing down on her shoulders and chest. It had to be.

* * *

Allura sat in silence for a few moments, staring at the blank screen and the hint of her reflection in it. The day was weighing on her, and it showed – if she frowned like this any longer it was sure to put a permanent crease in her brow and lines around her lips. She sighed, rubbing fruitlessly at her skin and patting her cheeks. No need for that now, her mother probably would have said to her. No use letting her worry over things to come weigh her down when there was nothing she could do about them from her place in the present.

And no use putting off this call any longer.

With a deep breath, she put the call through, her heart thumping in her chest as she waited. Was it anxiety twisting in the pit of her stomach? Surely there was no reason for it. Or perhaps it was excitement?

She swallowed. There wasn't a reason for that either.

But when he answered, a smile spread bright and quick across her face, and she supposed that gave her the answer. Excitement, then.

"Queen Allura," he said with a warm smile of his own. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She could see that flash of curiosity and trepidation in his eye as he spoke. He was wondering too, just as she had wondered as she'd waited for the scan results that morning. She sighed. "I'm sorry to say my scan this morning was negative." Her shoulders slumped. "I was hopeful after our last _attempt,_ but…”

She could still feel the heat of his mouth on her, his breath between her legs. She pressed her thighs together beneath her dressed and shook the memory away.

She swore there was a hint of dark violet splashed across his cheeks as he nodded. "We can try again," he assured her. "As soon as you're ready."

Allura's chest tightened, her smile turning into something almost melancholy. "If you're growing tired of these trips to Altiran, all you need to do is say so."

"Tired?" he asked, brow arching.

"I've already asked so much of you-"

"Nothing I haven't been perfectly willing to offer, Allura."

"I know, but…" She couldn't keep it inside any longer, this uneasiness twisting in her chest and belly. She could still remember the look on Romelle's face, the furious fire in her eyes when she spoke of Lotor and the Galra. And Romelle wasn't the only one, she was certain.

He must have seen her wringing her hands, or chewing her lip, because he said, "Allura…what's bothering you?"

"I shouldn't be so soft," she chided herself. "I was never so naïve as to think that it would never be necessary, but lying to my people is…Keeping things from them is…" She let her shoulders drop, a sigh rattling out of her that left her feeling empty and heavy. "It's weighing on me.”

"Surely they've seen my ship coming and going," Lotor mused. "It's the first time in living memory that a Galra ship – and a _royal_ ship at that – has made its way into Altean airspace. With peaceful intentions, at least."

"I fear the _intentions_ they've come up with in their own minds may be worse than the reality. Not to mention that many of them make no secret of how they feel about the Galra."

"About me, you mean."

He never even flinched. Why did it make her chest ache, knowing how used to that he must have been?

"Old prejudice dies hard, I'm afraid. Even if they knew you were half Altean-"

"It wouldn't matter, Allura. Just as it never mattered to the Galra dissenters that I had Galra blood. A half will never be as strong as a whole, in many peoples' eyes." He tucked his hands behind his back, shoulders dropping, his hair obscuring his face for just a moment as he continued: "Would you…prefer to wait before we try again?" A beat. "Or perhaps that we should stop altogether-"

"No!" It burst out of her entirely too forcefully, and she wrung her hands just offscreen. “No, there’s no need for that. Though…perhaps I could come to you instead.” She looked up to meet his eye again and found his eyebrows raised. “If it would be easier-“

“Easier,” he slowly replied, “But perhaps not the most prudent path.”

“Do you think it would cause strain for the Galra, seeing the Altean queen so deep inside the empire?”

The thought of setting foot inside Galra command made her heart race. She had never in her entire life thought it would ever be possible to do so and live, and now she was offering it up as a viable option. Lotor, however, did not look convinced. “Regardless of how the Galra may feel about it, I think it may be best for you to stay in Altiran where you’re truly needed.”

Allura sighed, a knot of anxiety uncinching just a bit in her chest. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

And yet the chance to see the heart of the Galra Empire…how thrilling an experience would it be? She banished the thought before she entertained it for more than a tick or two.

“I can return to Altiran in a few movements. If you think the rumors are becoming too unwieldy…”

“I can handle them,” she insisted. She had to, after all. “It will take more than a few whispered words to destroy the peace between our people, don’t you worry.” For good measure, she shot him what she hoped was a warm and welcoming smile. He returned it in kind and nodded, then bowed.

“I look forward to it, Queen Allura.”

Ancients help her, so did she.

* * *

Going to meet Lotor as he disembarked from the cruiser had become almost routine by now. The first time she had watched the ship touch down on Altiran soil, her mind had been fraught with anxiety and racing thoughts of what was to come, and yet now the smell of exhaust and the sound of the engines spinning down made her heart race with anticipation of another kind.

She was beginning to enjoy these visits, as much as she tried to shake the feeling off. She could afford a bit of pleasure amidst their business, as long as she didn’t let it get the best of her. As with many things, moderation was key.

“Almost old hat at this, aren’t we?” Coran mused as he watched the doors open, and he dropped his voice lower. “Have you heard anything else? About Lady Romelle?”

She knew his meaning well enough – Romelle was just a face for plenty more of her people. One voice to raise their concerns and fears. Allura couldn’t afford to ignore her any more than she could ignore all of Altea. She wondered just how many eyes had followed the Galra cruiser down after it had broken through the clouds, even with the sun beginning to dip.

She rolled her shoulders back and took a breath to steady her. “I can’t blame her for having reservations, but she knows only as much as she needs to.” She glanced over at Coran, hair whipping in her face from the breeze flying off the ship’s cooling engines. “I trust that as my advisor, you would tell me if you thought I was making a poor decision.”

“A poor decision? No, not at all.” He paused a moment. “Though there are times when addressing rumors head-on can do much more good than you’d think.”

She turned that over in her head as she watched a figure descend from the ship – before Lotor and the rest of his guard came a woman with sharp eyes and dark hair that was smoothed over a pair of small horns on her scalp. She turned and caught Allura’s eye almost immediately, and her expression was unreadable as she held her gaze for just a tick longer than was comfortable.

“Another of the emperor’s generals,” Coran mused. “Seems to like surrounding himself with comely women, doesn’t he?”

Allura shot him a side glance. “I don’t know _what_ you mean by that.”

The Galra woman never strayed more than a step or two out of arm’s reach from Lotor as they made their way down off the landing pad, and Allura thought she could see her mumbling something to the emperor that she couldn’t hear. If Lotor answered, Allura couldn’t tell – her gaze was so fixed on his eyes that she neglected to check if his lips moved at all. His brow was pinched, heavy bags marring the usually smooth lilac skin under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept at all the night before.

Worry twisted in her gut.

Lotor walked more slowly than usual, his movements stiff. It was as if every step took all of his concentration and effort, his hands balled into tight fists at his side. He stopped before her, as he had plenty of times before, but his smile was so forced it almost seemed like a grimace.

“Queen Allura,” he said. Stars, his voice was strained too. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You as well,” she answered, purely out of habit. She knew better than to ask after his health, but he must have caught the worry in her gaze, because he deflected his eye to his right before she could fret any longer.

He gestured at the woman by his side. “This is Acxa, one of my oldest allies and the most seasoned of my generals.”

Acxa’s lips pressed together in a tight line. It seemed Allura wasn’t the only one who had noticed that Lotor was in pain. But like Allura, she didn’t say a word about it. Instead she simply turned to Allura and gave a curt bow. “It’s an honor, your majesty.”

“Acxa…” Allura mused. There was something different about this one. The way she stood so close to him, the way her gaze flew to Lotor’s face every time he grimaced in pain, the way she seemed to know better than to mention it. His _oldest ally,_ and perhaps his closest. Something jabbed at the base of Allura’s ribs, hot and unpleasant. She ignored it and smiled at them both.

Despite the pain etched into his face, Lotor smirked as they walked. “Honestly, Acxa,” he said, “You don’t need to be so on-alert. I doubt the queen is any more likely to attempt an assassination than she was the last three times I’ve visited.”

“And nor is anyone else,” Allura added as they stepped through the threshold. “This castle may be one of the safest places on Altea. One of the safest in the galaxy even.”

“Nobody is questioning that,” Acxa sighed. “And I’m certainly not suspicious of you or your people. But I don’t make the same mistake twice.”

Allura almost asked what she meant by that. She wondered if it had something to do with one or more of the scars she’d noticed on Lotor’s skin.

Acxa waved a hand. “Don’t mind me, Queen Allura. I’m not here to get in the way of…” Her eyes wandered over to Lotor, one brow arching. “Whatever it is you’re here to do.”

“Nonsense,” she insisted. “You’re a guest here on Altea as much as Emperor Lotor is.” Acxa blinked at her, looking almost surprised. Was she not used to hospitality, Allura wondered? “There’s a meal being prepared in the kitchens as we speak.”

For a moment it seemed she had rendered Acxa speechless, simply with the promise of a place at their table. Lotor’s other generals had all but jumped at the promise of food – even if she hadn’t seen Narti eat a single bite, her plate had been clean by the time she’d left the table. But Acxa looked as if Allura had offered her the crown off her head.

Lotor smiled. “Didn’t I tell you that Altean hospitality was impressive?”

Acxa’s expression was unreadable as she answered, “I guess I should have taken your word for it.”

* * *

From that moment onward, Allura couldn’t take her eyes off of Acxa.

The Galra woman was certainly striking – not just physically, but in the way she carried herself. She had the imposing air and determination of a Galra soldier, but Allura wondered if she was perhaps of mixed blood like Lotor was. The small horns nestled in her dark hair and her shorter stature suggested as much, but there wasn’t a single tactful way that Allura could find to ask. So she let her curiosity go unsatisfied and let her mind wander instead.

Acxa carried herself with a sharp determination and focus that seemed like it would easily complement Ezor’s energy and Zethrid’s boisterousness. She was hard to read, but Allura didn’t miss the way that her eyes darted to Lotor every few ticks, like clockwork. There was no outward affection that she could find, but it was easy to see that they were close. Comfortable.

She focused on her soup, wondering how much Acxa knew about the purpose of Lotor’s visit. It wouldn’t have surprised her if Lotor had told her nearly everything. And why shouldn’t he? Keeping their plans secret from their own people was one thing, but surely he needed a confidant just as much as she did.

Perhaps more than a confidant. She was quite beautiful, after all. Whether that was true by Galra standards, Allura couldn’t be sure, but perhaps Lotor’s tastes differed from those of his peers anyway.

She banished those thoughts from her mind the moment they cropped up – over and over, as many times as it took. As they finished their meals – Lotor barely touching his own – and indulged in some bitter klaxroot tea, her gaze kept jumping over to Lotor every time his lips pulled back in a pained grimace. It seemed that Allura wasn’t the only one to notice that he wasn’t himself. Of course she wasn’t. Acxa must have known him much better than she ever could.

True to form, Acxa followed closely as they finally made their way toward Allura’s bedchambers. Allura wondered if the woman intended to follow them inside too, but she stopped just a few feet shy of the threshold as Allura opened the door.

“You’re dismissed if you’d like to get some rest, Acxa,” Lotor said, his tone casual albeit still tense with discomfort. “The guest quarters are more than comfortable. They may even be enough to make you go soft.”

“With all due respect,” Acxa said, nodding toward Allura. “I highly doubt that.” She squared her shoulders and planted herself firmly by the door. “And unless you’re ordering me away, I’ll keep to my post tonight.”

“I can assure you that my personal castle guard are made up of the best Altea can offer. If you’re concerned about Emperor Lotor’s safety-“

“I’m not doubting your peoples’ skill or loyalty,” Acxa quickly interjected. “But _my_ loyalty is to my emperor. I won’t get in the way of your guards, but I have a duty to Emperor Lotor. I’m sure you understand.” Her eyes flashed. “It’s in my blood. Galra nature.”

Something welled up in Allura’s chest. Jealousy? No, never. Possessiveness? Ancients, no. But it was hot and thick, and it stuck between her ribs and made it that much harder to force a smile. She did anyway. “You’re very loyal. I can respect that, Acxa.” She turned to Lotor, finding him frowning. “I have no problem with your general joining my guard on tonight’s patrol. If it’s all the same to you.”

“Of course,” he quickly said, and they closed the bedroom door just as Acxa took up her post across the hall, looking ready to stay there all night if need be.

After a tick or two of silence, Allura summoned that forced smile back to her face and said, “She’s quite dedicated to her duty.”

“She is.”

“You’re quite lucky to have someone like her at your side.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, fighting back a grimace. “I am.”

Her smile wasn’t resilient enough to stay any longer, and her brow pinched. “Lotor…something is wrong. You’re in pain.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Curt, two-word answers were doing little to curb her worry. “Acxa seemed…concerned for you.”

“She’s protective of me,” he sighed. “Void knows why.”

“Were you…injured somehow?”

Lotor didn’t answer; he let his head hang for a moment with a long, heavy sigh. He rolled his shoulders, opposite hand hovering just a hair’s breadth away from his armor before his fingers curled against his palm. “As I said, I’m fine.”

“Lotor-“

“I hope you don’t feel insulted by Acxa’s loyalty to her post.”

Allura blinked. “Insulted? Stars, no. I would never…”

“I owe Acxa my life,” he finally said, and Allura went quiet. “Quite literally, in fact. My ascension to the throne was not a smooth or easy transition, and was not without rebellion. Were it not for Acxa and her quickness with her blade, I would have died long before I could end my father’s reign.”

She pressed her teeth down against her lower lip, hands folded in front of her as she watched him reach for the edge of his armor. “But we don’t need to linger on such things,” he said. “We’re here for a purpose. I have not forgotten that.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, voice softer than she would have liked.

He hissed as he removed the first few plates of armor. “I’m certain. If you still wish to try-“

“Of course I would. If you’re-“

“Then I’m more than fine.” He stood, continuing to remove his armor piece by piece, until he was covered only by his flight suit above the waist and his boots below. “Allura…I assure you, I would not be offering if I was not capable.”

She let her shoulders drop, relenting. She supposed there was no use pressing if he insisted that he was fine to continue. All she could do was trust him. So she reached up to unzip her dress.

They undressed in silence, and as Allura turned her back to step out of her dress, Lotor flicked off the light. She paused, letting eyes adjust to the sudden dimness. When she turned to face him again he was just a silhouette on the bed, waiting patiently for her.

“I’m ready when you are, your majesty.”

Ah, there it was – a hint of that familiar playfulness that she had heard in his voice so many times before. It put her mind at ease and allowed her to slip into the bed and relax against the cool sheets.

He was over her almost immediately, the heat of his skin brushing against hers as he settled between her legs. She could make out his face, his hair hanging along his jaw and over his eyes. Why did he look tired tonight, she wondered? Did it have to do with whatever pain he was in? It must have.

No, she couldn’t let her mind wander so freely. She had to trust him when he said he could handle this. When he said he was fine, she had to believe that what he said was true.

Allura let herself lie back, reaching up – almost instinctively – to wrap her arms around his shoulders, only to have him hiss and recoil the moment her fingers met his skin. She frowned, catching a glimpse of his face still twisted in pain in the moonlight. “Lotor-“

“Please don’t let me stop you.”

Trust me damned, she ignored him, sitting up and switching on her bedside light. He turned his face from the glow, almost tiredly, looking resigned, and then she finally saw the marks on his shoulders. The asymmetrical plates of ridged scales that curved along the lines of his shoulders – when she had last seen them they had been more pronounced, albeit lopsided, but now they were almost non-existent. And in their place was raw, inflamed skin, covered in what looked like a thick salve or balm. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to be easing his discomfort.

“Lotor…” she said again, more softly this time, and Lotor merely sighed. “You’re injured.”

He smiled, mirthlessly. “Self-inflicted wounds, I’m afraid.”

Her heart ached. “What-“

“Don’t misunderstand. Not for suffering’s sake, I assure you.” His smile, bitter and joyless as it had already been, fled from his face. He turned his face from the light again, sitting back on his haunches until she could barely see the remains of those scales. “My claim to the throne, tenuous as it may have been, was not the only thing I…inherited from my father.”

“Those scales…” She swallowed. “You…removed them.”

“As I have before,” he told her, as if it was a simple thing. Like filing his nails or washing his hair. Nothing more than a task that needed tending to. “And as I will again, when the need arises. But please, Queen Allura, it’s nothing that warrants your concern. Nor does it need to distract us from the task at hand.”

She frowned at him. “You’re in pain. I think that _does_ warrant my concern. As if I could ask you to do this when you’re suffering-“

“I’ve suffered more than enough to know how to handle it on my own,” he snapped, and the room went quiet. Allura stiffened, staring at him, pulling her legs closer as she tried to slow her own heartbeat. Lotor hung his head, moving back from her and raising his hand, palm toward her. “I’m sorry…” He groaned, sounding frustrated, but not at her. “Forgive me, Queen Allura. I never meant to use that kind of tone with you.”

Allura stayed silent, slowly edging her way off the bed and feeling Lotor’s eyes on her as she crossed her bedroom and went to her vanity. She ran her fingers along the edge of the bottles sitting there at the base of the mirror until she found the one she was looking for, and she wordlessly carried it and a clean cloth back to the bed and sat beside him, their legs barely brushing. “That salve you put on,” she whispered, “Does it help?”

“Numbing balm,” he told her. “It does…for a time.”

She was already opening the bottle and carefully inverting it over the cloth, damping the soft material with the light, floral-smelling liquid. “This should be better. Astra seed oil. My mother used to make it herself, and there was nothing better for scrapes, burns, cuts…” She looked up and met his gaze, nodding at the cloth in her hand. “May I?”

Briefly, she wondered if he would refuse. She could see the hesitation in his face, the cogs turning behind his eyes as he weighed his options. He swallowed, then without a word, he nodded.

She placed herself behind him on the bed, her heart suddenly racing all over again for some reason she couldn’t place. Gently, she pressed the cloth against the angry flesh. Lotor hissed, just for a moment, but then his shoulders relaxed, his breath steadier on his next exhale. She knew the feeling well – astra seed oil burned just for a moment, but the pain was a pure, hot one that burned out quickly and left cool, calming numbness in its wake. Like sinking into a cold running stream on a blazing hot day.

The relief on his face was almost immediate, and it made Allura’s heart soar as much as the pain from before had made it ache.

From this angle she could see his face in perfect profile – his eyes lightly closed, his jaw relaxed, his hair illuminated a dusky orange by the bedside light. He was truly beautiful. She could admit that much. Even these scales along his shoulders, she thought, could be just as striking as the rest of him if he didn’t inflict this on himself.

“Can I ask,” she found herself saying, and one of his eyes opened just a bit to look at her. “…how…how long have you…”

His eyes slid closed again. “I was fifteen when they started to grow in,” he mused, voice steady and quiet. It seemed the astra seed oil was truly working its magic, draining all the pain from his features. “A common age for that sort of thing. I told no one. I grew to hate them…seeing them every day in the mirror…One day when I was sixteen I snuck into the medical ward in the middle of the night and…tried to remove them.” Her stomach turned. “I couldn’t manage it.”

“You were just a child,” she breathed. “You shouldn’t have had to endure something like that.”

That joyless, bitter smile of his was back again. She thought she preferred him frowning. “I didn’t have much choice. I didn’t feel like I did, at least. I managed as best I could, filing them down as much as I could bear, and over time the pain became easier to take.”

Her fingers trailed down the length of his arm, tracing the line of firm muscle as it flexed just under his lilac skin. “We don’t have to…to do anything tonight,” she offered, and his eyes flashed as he met her gaze again. “It can wait if it needs to.”

“It doesn’t,” he insisted, his tone much softer now that the pain seemed to have faded. “Time may not be of the essence, but there’s no need for you to delay your plans because of me. Besides…” He flashed her a smirk. “I came all this way already.”

She would have been happy just to see him, even if they never touched each other. She bit back that thought before it slipped out and buried it deep down for good measure. Instead of answering, she put the cloth and bottle down on the bedside table and pressed him back to sit against the pillows. She straddled his legs.

“Would it be easier like this then?” she asked him, careful to keep her hands off his shoulders and resting them on his chest instead. She matched his smirk from before, cocking her head to the side. “I could do the work this time.”

“I’d never presume to make the queen do more work than necessary,” he quipped, and Allura threw her head back and laughed.

“I can handle a bit of work, thank you very much. Do I look frail to you?”

“Of course not.”

For good measure, she reached down to grasp the hem of her nightgown, lifting it up over her head and dropping it at the foot of her mattress. She was getting used to it, being exposed, but somehow being on top of him like this, she felt more naked than she ever had before. She swallowed as she watched Lotor’s eyes track the length of her body, feeling a thrill rush through her.

“Comfortable?” she asked him, hands snaking down between their bodies to reach between their legs. His erection had waned from before, but it was returning now as she pressed her palm against the underside of him.

Lotor nodded. “Thanks to you.”

“It was the least I could do.” She stroked him, carefully, heart racing as she felt him growing harder in her hand. Every time they were together like this it seemed more and more of her anxiety was replaced by excitement. “I ought to repay you for this favor you’ve agreed to do for me.”

From the look on his face, it seemed her hand was repaying that favor well enough at the moment. His eyes were half lidded as he stared up at her, reaching out to turn off the bedside light again before letting his hands rest on her hips. His skin blazed hot against hers, her flesh tingling where his fingers pressed.

Carefully, she pushed herself up on her knees, pressing him against her and sinking down in one smooth motion – it was a familiar feeling by now, the ridges along his length prodding against her inner walls as he slid inside, but the new angle nearly took her breath away. Lotor’s claws brushed against her skin when he bottomed out inside.

She glanced down again and found his eyes closed, his bottom lip caught in his teeth, his brow pinched in pleasure. He let out a groan as she rocked against him, slowly building up her rhythm until those claws of his pressed harder against her flesh.

It seemed that Lotor had almost forgotten his pain. It had all been replaced by pleasure when she looked down at his face. It was beautiful on him – pure and blazing. She almost couldn’t believe she’d ever willingly averted her gaze from watching him when he lost himself in it. She could watch it now for vargas.

Her thighs started to ache, but she didn’t care. She braced one hand against the headboard and kept going.

“A-Allura,” Lotor forced out. “I…I’m-“

“It’s okay,” she told him, her own brow cinching as she chased her own release. Of course, she didn’t _need_ to come, but it would increase their odds of success.

That, and dammit all, she _wanted_ to come. Desperately so.

A moan died in Lotor’s throat, his hips thrusting up weakly to meet her movements. “I’m close,” he finally said.

Her fingers and knuckles burned from her iron grip on the headboard. “Me too – just…can you…can you wait…just a dobash or two…please…”

Her voice shook, every breath shuddering. Lotor didn’t answer, but his arm wrapped around her middle, holding her closer, bracing her against him as he thrust up into her with more vigor. It was almost enough. Almost-

She pitched forward, chin resting against his shoulder, and Lotor’s breath puffed against the shell of her ear as he growled: “ _Come for me, Allura._ ”

She did. Greedily.

It burst through her like a solar flare, spreading across every inch of her body and forcing a rough moan from her throat. With every wave of her climax, she could feel him press deeper inside of her, stretching her, filling her every corner of her, and somewhere in the back of her mind she could tell that he was coming too. Pride welled in her chest as the last aftershocks of her peak started to recede, and she was suddenly all too aware of Lotor quivering under her.

Groggily, she opened her eyes and looked down to find him utterly spent, head tilted back against the pillows, mouth agape as he pulled in heavy, ragged breaths. His face was flushed a deep violet, all the way out to the tips of his ears, and she smiled. “My my…” she chuckled, practically floating. “I think, perhaps, we both needed that.”

His breath slowed, every exhale coming on the edge of a quiet groan, and it wasn’t until she shifted and his body stiffened under her that she realized something was different. A firm, unyielding pressure down between her legs – not painful, but…noticeable.

Lotor’s eyes opened, and the flush in his face deepened. “Oh…” He swallowed. “Oh dear…”

She blinked at him. “Oh dear?”

“Ah…I didn’t mean to…this is…unexpected.”

She stared at him, looking for the words, and when none came, Lotor pressed his hands against her waist again – maybe as a comforting gesture, or maybe as a way to keep her still. Confused, she reached down between her legs and her fingers brushed against the base of him, still nestled inside of her, swollen and rigid as if he hadn’t come just moments before.

“What-“

“I never thought…” She met his eye again, and he looked almost sheepish. “I suppose I got a bit more carried away than intended.”

Suddenly the pieces started to come together – all her studies on Galra biology flooded her memory and answered her own question. “You…” She looked down the length of her body, then back up at him again. “Did you…knot me?”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “Not on purpose, I assure you.”

Well.

Maybe she had been naïve not to consider the possibility. Perhaps even more naïve never to _ask._ “Well, I suppose it’s not entirely _voluntary,_ is it?”

“Not always.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Allura – I should have said-“

“No…no, it’s alright.”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

She shook her head. It was a half truth – her legs were starting to cramp, but the stretch itself wasn’t _unpleasant._ Certainly not painful. “How long does it usually take to…”

“Just give me a few dobashes,” he said, sounding thoroughly fed up with himself. Almost _ashamed._ Allura frowned.

“Lotor…it’s alright, really.” Before she could stop herself she reached out to cup his jaw in her palm, and he finally looked up at her again. “It’s alright. I’m fine. And, well…if we’ll be here a bit…I’d rather not have you spend the next ten dobashes thinking you did anything wrong.”

His shoulders relaxed, just enough for her to notice, and for a moment she swore she could feel him lean in to her touch. He let out a sigh. “Do you know what the Galra people call you, Allura?” he muttered, almost as if he barely realized he was speaking at all.

“What they call me?”

He nodded. “Surely you didn’t think your ascent to the throne of Altea would go unnoticed. Even amidst all of the upheaval that came with my claiming the empire, everyone has heard of you – the Temperate Queen.”

She huffed. “ _Temperate?_ ”

Lotor chuckled, and she could feel the vibrations of it up her spine. “Does the name not agree with you?”

“Certainly not. Given what I know of the Galra, it’s most certainly an insult.”

“For some, absolutely. There are plenty among the Galra who think that any ruler who doesn’t control their people through sheer power and fear is weak and doomed to be overthrown. They’re the same who think that of me. But we don’t rule so differently, you and I…and I happen to think the name means something far from weakness.”

She stared at him, suddenly desperate to know just what he thought of the title. What he thought of _her._ As if it truly mattered. “Do you think of me as _temperate?_ ”

“Not temperate alone, no…I think it’s nearly impossible to sum any person up in a single word. You least of all.”

Her heart thumped against her chest. The way he looked up at her as he spoke made it seem like he’d meant it as a compliment.

“You are levelheaded,” he said. “Strong-willed – perhaps even stubborn. Intelligent, selfless, and kind.” She drew in a breath. “I think the universe needs more rulers like that. _Kind._ It’s something that so often goes overlooked.”

Her face was blazing hot by the time he went quiet again, and her mouth hung open uselessly as she tried to find the right words. None came.

It was just supposed to be a business arrangement.

It was supposed to be quick and easy and they would part ways without a second thought when it was done.

But here he was, gazing up at her with such softness in his gaze and calling her _kind_ and _strong,_ and suddenly Allura had the overwhelming urge to do something reckless. Something selfish. Something _impulsive._

She wanted to kiss him. Stars above, she wanted to kiss him more than anything in the world.

She would have, if he had waited another moment to speak again: “I think I can…”

Suddenly he was lifting her hips up, and she felt him slide out of her with ease, the pressure releasing and leaving her feeling oddly empty. She fell back against the pillows again, relishing the touch of crisp, cool sheets against her back, and she stared at the ceiling as her breath evened out again.

He was sitting up on the edge of the bed, looking back at her. “Are you alright, Allura?”

“Y-yes,” she finally said, and the sound of her own voice was almost alien after listening to his for what felt like so long. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Perhaps I should retire to the guest quarters for the night.”

 _Yes, you should,_ she tried to say. It was what she was _supposed_ to say. But instead-

“Wait a tick.”

He turned to look at her, halfway to his feet, and she grabbed the bottle from the bedside table.

“This works best…with several applications to let it soak into the skin to promote healing. It won’t stop them growing back, of course, but…it would help. With the pain. If you’d let me…”

Slowly, he sat back down again. “I’d be forever grateful,” he said. “If you would…”

She nudged him onto his stomach on the bed, brushed his hair out of the way and carefully massaged a few more drops of the astra seed oil into the skin around the jagged remains of his scales. She ignored the way her heart was racing and her hands shaking and ignored the feeling of his release dripping slowly down her thigh. She focused her attention on the warm skin under her fingers. Until the redness in his flesh had faded. Until his breathing evened out. Until he fell asleep under her touch.

* * *

Lotor slept deeply and dreamlessly. By the time he woke up, the sun was already streaming through the window, bright and high above the horizon – for the first time in as long as he could remember, he’d _slept in._

He pushed himself up against the pillows and rubbed his eyes, rolling his shoulders and marveling at how…normal they felt. After so long waking to ever-present stiffness and throbbing pain around those blasted raw scales, the absence of that discomfort almost felt strange. And to think, it was all thanks to that little vial of marvelous oil. All thanks to-

He froze.

Turning slowly, as if the slightest movement would give him away, he glanced at the other side of the bed, and there she was. Sleeping soundly, the slope of her naked back disappearing under the line of soft silk sheets. He stared at her, heart pounding. Void preserve him, he had _slept in the queen’s bed._

She was dead to the world, so deep asleep she hadn’t even sensed him stirring. It was odd, seeing her like this – hair loose and flowing messily down over her shoulders, face lax and expressionless. He thought she might even be drooling a bit. She was so unlike the poised, elegant queen he’d grown used to seeing. Even when they’d mated she’d held a part of herself back, like she was trying to keep up appearances even when she came. Yet now, there were no appearances to maintain. There were no walls to keep strong between them. She was vulnerable, open, utterly at peace.

He shook his head. This was no time to be gawking. He shouldn’t even _be_ here – what had come over him, letting himself fall asleep in her bed, after _knotting_ her the night before? Even thinking about it now made fire roil in his belly. The moment she had _felt_ her come he had been at her _mercy-_

He pushed himself out of bed and grabbed the first piece of his clothing he could reach. His boot. He sighed and turned to search for the rest and-

She was looking at him. Awake.

“Queen Allura.” He bowed his head as she pushed herself up to a sitting position, sheets held up over her chest. “Forgive the intrusion…”

“You spent the night,” she mused, rubbing her eyes. She seemed barely awake at all.

“I shouldn’t have-“

“I’m glad you did.”

He stared at her, mouth agape. Like a useless beached fish. Her cheeks turned rosy, and she added, “I-I know it wasn’t part of our arrangement, but…I mean…I’m glad you stayed. And let me tend to your shoulders.”

He couldn’t help but reach up to run a finger along the line of those scales. The flesh was still tender, but the pain was barely enough to notice. “That oil worked wonders,” allowed himself to say, and she smiled, wide and warm.

“I’m glad.”

“I’m sorry to say I won’t be able to stay for breakfast this time either.”

She pulled her knees close under the sheets, pushing the hair from her face. He could see the barriers creeping up again, her smile changing back into something she might show to her subjects rather than a lover. “I figured as much. Take another sweetmelon from the kitchen if you’d like. We have more than we know what to do with.”

He could still taste the fruit on his tongue.

Perhaps he could allow himself that one small indulgence. The latest in a long line of them, it seemed. “I may take you up on your generous offer.”

“And take this.”

The glass bottle glinted in the light as she held it out to him. He blinked at it, reaching out to grasp it by the neck.

“For what it’s worth,” she said, with the slightest hint of hesitation, “I don’t think you need to file down those scales. But if you must…this will at least help with the pain.”

He held it, reverently. It was a rare thing to grasp so simply – that even where suffering could not be eliminated, reducing it was better than doing nothing at all.

His fingers curled around the glass. “Thank you,” he said, voice rough. With the lingering effects of sleep, he figured.

From that moment until he arrived back at Galra headquarters, he held the bottle in his hand, memorizing all its elegant ridges and dips, and kept it close, as if it were made of solid gold.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter! I've been far down the Fire Emblem 3H rabbit hole, but rest assured I'm still working diligently on this fic as well. ^^

The moment Lotor answered the call from the queen of Altea, he knew that their latest attempt had, like the other before it, failed to be fruitful. The way she held herself, the sad little smile as she greeted him – it made it seem as though she was wordlessly trying to assure him that she didn't blame him for their failure. Not that he would have held that against her.

It was difficult not to be _surprised,_ though, considering the…nature of their last coupling. The way he'd knotted her. Mortifying as it was to remember, he couldn't deny that it should have boosted their chances.

Not enough, it seemed.

"I didn't call you to dwell on any disappointment either of us might feel," she sighed, that smile of hers never fading. Her gaze softened. "Before we discuss any further plans, if you would allow me, I…I wanted to ask…how are you…"

Instead of finishing her question, she brushed her own shoulder with one hand, and Lotor got the meaning well enough. His thoughts wandered back to that bottle of astra seed oil still resting on his nightstand. "Better," he said. "Thanks not in small part to you, Allura."

"Oh, good," she breathed, her eyes lighting up and reminding him of the way the morning sun had caught the crystal ridges of that bottle in his hand as he'd boarded his ship to leave Altea nearly a phoeb ago. "I'm glad that I could be of help. Even in just one small way…" Her hands wandered to her hair, fingers tracking along the carefully crafted braid that hung over her shoulder. "I'm afraid that I must ask more of you, though. Even more than before."

He rose a brow. "Oh?"

"It's no secret that my people harbor certain…prejudices against yours. And no matter what heinous crimes Zarkon committed against Altea and a myriad of other planets, we must move forward one way or another. All of us, Galra and Altean alike."

"You should as if you're practicing a grand speech," he said with a fond smile. Even as a splash of rosy pink spread across her cheeks, Lotor had to admit that he would have liked to hear more of it. The way her eyes blazed when she spoke of peace, the passion for her planet and her people written across her features, the way she carried herself as a born leader – it was captivating. _She_ was captivating.

She pulled her hands away from her braid and rested them on the console before her, as if to brace herself. "I may as well be. I plan to address my people in a few movements' time, to face their fears and concerns head-on and show them that Altea will have the strength to move forward." She looked up to meet his eye again, determination burning there behind her gleaming irises. "And I would like you there with me."

Lotor blinked, surprise welling in his chest. And something else too, squirming in the pit of his stomach at the thought of it. "Standing by your side while you address your people with talk of the unity and the future…They may very well get the impression you intend to ask for my hand, Queen Allura."

That splash of pink on her face became a flood. "N-no! Not at all!"

Was that disappointment curling under his ribs? Certainly not.

"I don't plan to reveal everything we're doing, either. None of my people know that I'm trying to conceive a child, and I think it best to keep it that way for now. But the whispers about why you've come to Altiran all these times must cease, and my people do deserve to know that I am not ignoring their worries…"

"I agree it may be best not to advertise that you've been taking me into your bed," he said smoothly, stoking that blush on her skin. It was a lovely glow, he couldn't deny. "But what will you tell them instead? With me standing by your side, addressing all of Altea…I am no stranger to a speech, Allura, but I prefer to know what I will be saying before taking the stage."

"The truth," she told him with a nod. "That you are an irreplaceable resource in this fight for peace. That we are working together to secure an alliance like the days of old. That you are striving to undo all of the damage that your father did…" She hung her head a moment later, staring down at her hands as she folded them before her.  "It saddens me to say, but…there are many young people here who don't know a life without war and uncertainty, and even those who do struggle to remember what it was like. Sometimes I wonder how all that we've achieved can even be real. I wonder what it might be like for a child to grow up in a peaceful universe."

What a gift that would be, Lotor found himself musing, as he watched her hand skim over her stomach over her dress.

She let her hand drop again and met his gaze. "Will you join me?" she asked. "You may speak or not, but…it may be a good thing for Altea to hear a promise of unity from your own mouth."

"If they would believe it," he pointed out.

"It's a start at least. We must all start somewhere."

"That we must…" He took a breath, clasping his hands behind him and trying to focus on anything other than the image of a child frolicking through the juniberry fields of Altea, growing up without memories of war and terror. A new generation who didn't know Zarkon's face.

A generation who might judge him for his own actions rather than for his father's.

Could he ever truly be deserving of something so precious? Or were these fantasies merely selfish indulgences?

He nodded. "I will join you. As will my generals, if I have your permission to bring them along as well."

"The more faces we can have to associate with our quest for unity, the better," Allura said, with a smile that lit up her face. "We can discuss any future attempts to conceive when the time comes later, but for now…just knowing that you will be there by my side means a great deal to me, Lotor. From the bottom of my heart, thank you."

There it was again – that soft, warmth in her eyes, reaching up from the smile stretching her lips. Beautiful, inviting, genuine. He ardently hoped any child she ever conceived would inherit those eyes and that smile.

* * *

Allura studied herself in the mirror, frowning. “You don’t think this dress is too…flashy?” She tugged at the sleeves where they puffed around her upper arms, trying in vain to smooth down the layers hanging over her legs.

“You ought to look regal when addressing the people, don’t you think?” Coran offered.

“Regal is one thing. _Foppish_ is another.” Allura sighed, disappearing behind the changing screen again. “I’ll be calling for support of the union between the Galra and Altea. Lotor said that a good number of Galra citizens will be watching the broadcast too. Can you imagine what they’ll think of Altea if its queen waddles out covered in a dress that weighs as much as she does?”

Truth be told, she was happy to latch onto any excuse she could to be rid of that dress. It had always been one of her least favorite of the ceremonial garb stored away in her closet. All the fabric in its may folds and layers could be much better served making clothes for Altea’s less fortunate.

“If I know anything about the Galra, it’s that they care about actions more than clothing,” Coran sagely told her as he held out a second dress – a much more sensible one, thank the Ancients – with his hand over his eyes. “Surely you’ve proven yourself to them a hundred times over by now.”

“Did you know they call me the _Temperate Queen?_ ”

“Sounds like a compliment.”

“It’s _not,_ ” she huffed as she finally freed herself from the blasted sea of fabric and got to work donning the new dress. This one was sleek and light, deep forest green and emblazoned with shining silver embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. “They think me weak.”

She stepped out in front of the mirror and immediately felt more at ease, at least for a passing moment. “You aren’t weak,” he said as he dutifully pulled up the zipper between her shoulder blades. “And any Galra or anyone else who thinks you are must have their head buried in a Weblum’s-“

She let out a sharp laugh, grinning as she turned. “ _Coran!_ ”

“Well it’s true!” He crossed his arms, a petulant gesture. “You’re not weak by any stretch of the imagination. A bit of self-restraint is hardly a bad trait for a ruler, after all. Perhaps some of the Galra are just having a hard time letting go of Zarkon’s old ideals.”

“Much like our own people, though in a different way…” She looked at herself in the mirror again, eyes tracking along the line of the dress all the way down to her ankles. The sleeves were loose and hung down along her elbows, the neckline curving just enough to show a peek of her collarbones. Her hair hanging down over her shoulders seemed to bleed into the silver thread stitched into the fabric.

She’d have to have new dresses made for her when she finally did conceive. Though that would probably be the least of her trials.

She took a breath. “I’m always nervous before an address like this.”

“Oh, old Alfor was too,” Coran chuckled. “Always spent vargas pacing in his study, reciting his speeches and cursing up a storm when he flubbed a word. But by the time he stepped in front of his people, you’d never know he was anxious about a thing.”

“I remember his speeches.” She smiled, and she couldn’t help but notice how forlorn she looked when she caught a glimpse of the mirror as she did. “He commanded his words so easily. And spoke so passionately you couldn’t help but believe him when he said that we had to cling to hope.”

“And look where it got us, hm? At peace with the Galra with you as our queen.” His hand rested on her shoulder. “You’ll do marvelously. You made it through your coronation without tripping once. This will be nothing.”

And she wouldn’t be addressing her people alone. Somehow that only made her even more nervous. But like all the other occasions she spent with Lotor these days, the anxiety twisting around in her belly was accompanied by excitement that brought a flush to her face.

She met Coran’s eye in the mirror. “Do you think this is the right thing to do?” she asked. “Addressing these whispers head-on…doing so with Lotor by my side…”

“Well I can’t say whether it’s what your father would have done.” Coran looked pensive for a moment, then smiled at her. “But your mother…If I knew Melenor – and I did – I would bet she would have sung your praises for stepping up like this and trying to move forward with so much enthusiasm.”

Allura felt a stab of melancholy between her ribs. “I so wish she were here…I wish that they could have met their grandchild one day.”

Coran had gotten to work pulling her hair back, grabbing a brush from the nearby vanity and working out the tangles. “Alfor would have spoiled any child of yours to bits. At the very least we don’t have to worry about him sneaking any little ones extra desserts.”

“As if you _won’t,_ ” she snorted.

“It’s my duty, isn’t it?” He planted his hands on his hips, looking almost heroic. “You’ll have to have my head if you want to stop me.”

She allowed herself a smile, wondering if she would ever have the heart to put a stop to such a thing at all.

* * *

Lotor was waiting for her as she made her way down the winding staircase to the foyer. He stood tall in his usual armor, but there was a spiked violet crown resting at his temples, standing out as a dark contrast to his silver hair. He was flanked by a few familiar faces: Acxa, Zethrid, Ezor, and Narti – and one older Galra woman who Allura didn't recognize. All eyes turned toward her as she entered.

For a moment she thought she saw Ezor mouth: " _Wow._ "

Lotor bowed low, the others following his lead. All except for the Galra woman, who merely nodded her head. "Queen Allura," he greeted. "You look…" He paused, as if searching for the right word. "…striking."

"We'll be address both of our people," she told him. "I wanted to make a good impression." She leaned in just a bit closer, dropping her voice low and whispering, "You should have _seen_ the other dress I tried on…I would have been the laughing stock of the entire Galra empire."

Lotor chuckled, low in his chest. "I'm certain you could never manage to look anything less than respectable."

"And you-" Her eyes wandered to that crown on his head. It seemed to be solid metal, no gemstones or frills to speak of. It looked supremely heavy. "Forgive me for staring – I didn't realize the Galra crowned their rulers."

He sighed, fingers pressing against one of the spikes. "Ah…an old tradition. It was my advisor's recommendation, actually. And speaking of…" He glanced back at the Galra woman who had been glowering over his shoulder from the moment Allura had arrived. "You already know my generals, but I should introduce Dayak."

"Dayak…"

The woman stepped forward, offering a respectful bow, but never softening her gaze or offering a smile. "Advisor to the throne, your majesty. It is an honor to be welcomed to Altea's capital city."

"I'm glad you're all here," Allura said, and it was the truth. She had never thought she would ever see the day that the Galra would set foot inside the castle, let alone their emperor and some of his closest compatriots. "And for what it's worth, I do think the crown is fitting."

"It is the first time in recent memory that there has been an emperor on the throne worthy of wearing it," Dayak said, standing tall with a wild look of pride gleaming in her eye. "It seemed for a time that the tradition would die with Zarkon."

"I do find it a bit archaic," Lotor muttered.

"It is a symbol of your grip on the throne and the empire, Blood Emperor Lotor."

Allura blinked. "Blood Emperor…"

"An old term," he interjected before Dayak could answer. "One that hasn't been widely used since before we were a star-faring race." He glanced back at her. "And one that I likely plan on removing from the common vernacular."

Dayak huffed, but didn't reply.

Lotor offered her his arm. "I suppose it is nearly time for us to address the people."

"Yes…" She drew a shaky breath. "It is."

"I have a few words prepared. After you've finished, of course. Nothing that will upstage you."

"Upstage me," she giggled as she tucked her arm under his elbow. "I'm certainly not worried about that. Will your generals and advisors be joining us on the stage?"

"I thought it best to leave that up to you."

She glanced back at them, smiling. "I think it would be a good show of unity to have all of you join us. The Altean people should get used to seeing the faces of our Galra allies. It would be an honor to have all of you by our side, if you would…"

Zethrid balked, just for a moment. "I'd have spent more time on my hair if I'd known we'd be giving a speech."

" _We're_ not giving a speech," Acxa said. "Just stand there and look respectable."

"Should I smile?"

"That'd probably just freak people out," Ezor quipped, and Zethrid shot her a glare.

Smiling or not, hair ready or no, it felt right to her to have them there with them. It would bring a sense of balance and normality to their address, rather than treating Lotor as nothing more than a token of Galra alliance. And perhaps it would drive the reality of their situation home to some of the more vocal dissenters to their newfound union.

Allura's heart pounded as they made their way toward the doors that led out onto the wide balcony overlooking the courtyard. She could already hear the crowd outside, not to mention the fact that there were hundreds of thousands more who would be watching the broadcast from afar. She hadn't faced such a large crowd since her own coronation.

Lotor leaned in close to murmur in her ear: "Are you nervous?"

"No," she lied. "Well…yes. I wish I could feel more comfortable addressing my own people, but I still haven't quite gotten used to having so many eyes on me."

"Just take comfort in the fact that most of them will undoubtedly be on _me,_ " he chuckled. "A Galra emperor standing by the queen's side. If any rotting fruits are thrown, they'll likely have me as their target."

"Nobody will be _throwing_ anything," she insisted. Or at least she very much hoped so. "Deep down, the Altean people are _hungry_ for this peace. But it isn't an easy thing to adjust to after so much war and destruction. It will take time, but I promise they will grow to respect you. They may already more than either of us realize."

If they could just see past their preconceptions. Ancients knew, Allura was still wrestling with her own.

The doors before them opened to fanfare and cheers, and the two of them stepped onto the balcony to face a sea of people before them. It stretched out past the gates of the courtyard, onto the streets beyond, as far as Allura could see. She let out a breath.

It seemed like all of Altiran was here.

Behind her, she heard Ezor whistle.

Allura stepped up to the bannister, and a hush fell over the crowd like a wave, working its way back until all she could hear was the quiet murmur of breath and the shuffle of feet below, and the hum of the broadcast drones focusing in on her. Lotor was a solid, warm presence by her side, and even though her arm was no longer tucked under his, the fact that he was standing beside her, grounding her, allowed her to steady her voice.

She had practiced the words time and time again, writing and re-writing and experimenting with different inflections and timing. _I address you today – Altean, Galra, and others alike – to unite us all beneath the banner of peace of progress. We have survived dark times and come out stronger than ever before, and the only way forward is to move forward together…_

Strong words that she hoped would resonate.

"I address you all today – Altea, Galra, and others alike – to-"

The rest went unsaid. It was cut off by a blur in the corner of her vision – a dark shadow that flashed past her so quickly she felt a whisper of air against her cheek. Before she could get out a single sound, Acxa had launched herself up onto the bannister, over it, leaping down into the crowd and tackling cloaked figure at the front to the cobblestone below while the rest of the onlookers scattered. Screams echoed through the courtyard, the thunder of feet pounding on the ground to flee was deafening.

The next thing she knew she was being tugged backwards, dragged inside just as Acxa stood up from where she had landed below, a blade gleaming in her hand.

Her head whipped to face Lotor and his generals, finding her royal guards' spears already inches from them.  "Lower your weapons!" she gasped, head spinning. "What in the Ancients' name are you doing?"

Coran was already beside her. "Where is the other one?" he demanded. "Acxa – where is she?"

There was no time for an answer – one of the royal guard rushed in from the opposite door. "Your Majesty," he panted, "We've apprehended the Galra woman. And…"

"What?" Allura insisted. "What _is_ it? What is going on?"

"An assassin," he said, bowing. "Queen Allura, there was…the one she targeted…we found a weapon on them. A stealth blaster."

Allura felt like the floor was opening up beneath her. "An…an assassin…"

"Groggory's bones," Coran breathed. "An _assassin?_ So close to the castle?"

"Such a massive crowd…they were hiding in plain sight," Dayak breathed, seeming thoroughly unbothered by the spear still an inch from her cheek. She glared.  "I would suggest you lower your weapons from the Blood Emperor's face."

"They are protecting their queen," Lotor said, eyes fixed on Allura's.

"And yet they allowed an assassin to creep to the front of the crowd under their watch."

Allura shrugged off Coran's hand when it pressed against her arm, and she stepped toward the guards. "Lower your weapons," she said again. "They are not the threat."

"Your Majesty-"

"I said _lower your weapons._ "

Slowly, they did.

Lotor's gaze softened. "Queen Allura…are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," she insisted, keeping her hands folded in front of her to hide how they were shaking. An assassin, hiding right in front of them in the crowd. She had some of the most elite warriors employed in her royal guard, and yet if Acxa hadn't been there…if she hadn't suggested they join them on the stage…

Well, she chose not to think about the possibilities.

She turned to the guard. "Where is Acxa?"

"In custody, your majesty."

"And the assassin?"

"Alive, for the moment. Being taken to the cells below for questioning."

"The assassin," Lotor added. "Were they…Galra?"

Allura stiffened, ice running through her veins. And yet the answer surprised her: "No…Altean."

Coran's eyes went wide. "What?"

"A pity Acxa's blade didn't pierce that treasonous coward's heart," Dayak spat.

Allura's head was spinning. "Calm the people," she said. "There cannot be secondary injuries due to panic. They must know that they are safe. And that _I_ am safe. And see to it that Acxa is uninjured." She tried to calm her breath. "I…I need to go take a moment to collect myself. Do not allow panic to spread. It will only cause more harm."

Numbly, she made her way up the stairs, trying to calm her racing heart. She needed to remain strong. Her people needed her. And yet, an assassin…an _Altean_ assassin. Thoughts streaked through her mind so quickly that she couldn't concentrate on a single one of them.

She made it to the study, managed to get the door closed behind her before she stumbled to the couch and collapsed onto it, her head in her hands. Had she made a mistake? Was this her fault? Had she been reckless in asking for Lotor's secretive help to conceive, or to call on him to join her addressing the people? If that assassin had targeted him instead, if they had _succeeded_ – it could have plunged them into another bloody war. One that she wasn't sure she had the strength to lead them through.

She needed a drink. There was a carafe of strong spirits sitting on the shelf near the window, and she couldn't deny that it was tempting. But she had to keep a clear head for whatever lay ahead of her…

A knock on the door drew her attention. And a familiar voice: "Allura…"

She was on her feet a moment later. "Open the door," she said. "Let him in."

Lotor stood on the threshold, flanked by her guards. "I don't mean to disturb you," he said. "I wanted to ensure that you were alright…"

"Leave us," she told the guards, and finally the door closed, and they were alone. "Lotor…"

Two strides and her hands were secure in his. "It's alright," he said. "It's normal to be shaken after something like this." 

 _I'm fine,_ she wanted to say, even if it was a lie. But Lotor's hands on hers did something to her, melting away her resolve so quickly that she had to sit back down again. He let her, sinking down next to her and not protesting when she leaned against him. "I should be strong," she sighed. "I cannot let my people see me like this…"

Carefully, one hand trailed up along her back, a soothing gesture. He allowed a sad little smile to slip onto his face. "I've had more attempts made on my life than I can count – from the time I was young up until after I took the throne. And I'm sure there will be more. And even now, they still shake me to my core, Allura. It is not an easy thing, being faced with one's own mortality."

“It’s not my mortality that scares me,” she admitted with a sad little smile. “An Altean assassin…I never would have imagined…If they were Galra, perhaps it would have made sense, but-“ She froze, realizing just what she was saying, and immediately she felt shame wash over her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“No, I understand. The Galra Empire is still so fractured that it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest to have another of my kind make an attempt on my life. And given our history with Altea, as much as it pains me to admit, it would have made a certain amount of sense for them to target you as well. But you’re right – an Altean trying to kill their queen…” He shook his head. “It’s troubling.”

“If Acxa hadn’t been there-“

“Don’t dwell on that, Allura. You’re liable to drown in the hypotheticals if you let them control your thoughts.”

She let out a heavy sigh, more certain than ever that he was right. He was painfully right. So much so that it hurt to admit. After a few ticks of silence, she finally said, “I suppose…this wasn’t really the first attempt made on my life. Not truly, at least.” Lotor’s puzzled expression almost made her smile. “My mother…when she was pregnant with me…Someone attempted to poison her – _us_ – and they were just barely caught in time.”

She felt Lotor’s hand tighten around hers, grounding her.

“And my father,” she continued, “He faced his fair share of assassins, as a king during wartime. Some before he even took the throne. Perhaps I always knew that it could happen. But I can’t help but feel that I was naïve for assuming that the end of the war would protect me from facing such things myself.”

It wasn’t until Lotor reached up and swiped a tear away from her cheek with the pad of his thumb that she realized she was crying at all. His touch was feather-light, so painfully gentle that it made the tears flow even more.

Stars, she couldn’t let this happen. If she let the floodgates open, she would never be able to close them again.

“Breathe, Allura,” Lotor told her, and she did. Slowly. Deliberately. She let herself lean against his shoulder without giving it a second thought.

For a long time, they sat in silence. Allura collected her thoughts and emotions and steadied herself again, but there was still something lingering in the back of her mind. An insipid little voice that refused to quiet, no matter how much she tried to push it down. “Is it ridiculous of me,” she breathed, “to just want a distraction for a bit? I know I need to go face what’s happened. I need to help find out why it happened all. I need to help clear Acxa’s name and be strong for my people. But…for a moment…even just for a few dobashes…is it selfish of me to want to escape?”

“No.” His claws curled against her wrist. “And if it is, well…perhaps you’ve earned the right to be a bit selfish for a time.”

She let out a laugh, looking up to face him again. The light from the window played on his eyes, glinting off his yellow sclera and shining blue irises. There was something in those eyes – something that she couldn’t help but feel _understood_ her more than anyone had before.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light. Perhaps it was simply wishful thinking. But it didn’t change what she wanted more than anything in that moment.

She drew a shaky breath. “Lotor…would you…” Ancients, she felt ludicrous even asking. “Would you…distract me for a while?”

The way his eyes widened, just enough for her to notice, assured her that the meaning of her words was clear. “Allura…”

“I know what I’m asking is entirely selfish. Bordering on insane. I wouldn’t blame you for turning me down, no matter what we’ve done up until now, but… _Ancients,_ I just…I need to clear my head, and I can’t help but feel it would help…”

Gently, she took his hands and placed them on the hem of her dress. This damn dress that she had spent so long agonizing over.

“Please,” she said.

This was dangerous.

It was different from all of their attempts to conceive. This time there was no goal in mind. She didn’t need him to simply come and be done with it. She needed the sensation, the distraction, the escape of it all, and blast it – she _knew_ that Lotor could give that to her. Perhaps it wasn’t healthy. Perhaps it was reckless and _selfish,_ but she wasn’t keen on wasting time or effort dancing around after everything that had happened.

“I know what I’m asking for. Please just give me this,” she sighed, holding his gaze, refusing to look away. She cupped his face in her hands. “Just for a moment.”

Just a moment to feel like something other than a queen. Something other than a target. Something other than a woman with the weight of her entire planet on her shoulders. Was it so wrong of her to want to replace that weight, that tension with pleasure and release instead?

Slowly, he nodded. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“If I thought for a moment I would be taking advantage-“

“You aren’t,” she assured him. “ _Stars,_ you aren’t. I swear it.”

Gently, almost impossibly so, he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ears, thumb brushing the point of one and sending a flush blooming across her cheeks. “I can,” he whispered. “If you want a distraction before you have to face all of this, I can certainly oblige you, Allura.”  

* * *

The assassin was dead by the time they reached the cells. Not by Altean spears or Acxa’s blade or Dayak’s piercing glare, but by their own hand. Poison. Clutched in their teeth.

“Coward,” Dayak spat as Lotor poured over every bit of information he could gather back at Galra command. “The thought still makes me sick.”

Though she was shaken by the treachery of it – the slimy, traitorous tactics. Lotor found it hard to remember anything but the look on Allura’s face as they had ushered her inside. Surprise and terror morphing into crushing sadness when she had learned that the assassin had been one of her own people.

For _movements_ after they had returned from Altea, Lotor had thrown himself into investigating the incident. There was no way he couldn’t. His own concern for the queen aside, this was bigger than her alone. Bigger than even the single assassin.

He frowned at the screen. “The assassin was connected to the Fire of Purification,” he muttered, fingers curling against metal surface below his palms as he leaned his weight on them. “I know it.”

“Don’t let yourself get caught up in conspiracy theories, my emperor.”

He glanced at her. “Do you doubt it?”

Dayak sighed. “No. I will admit I suspect the same.”

From the corner of the room, Acxa chimed in: “The assassin was Altean,” she said. “But the weapon was Galra. I’d know it anywhere. There’s no reason for an Altean commoner to have Galra tech. Not unless the Fire of Purification has infiltrated Altea itself.”

“Infiltrated Altiran,” Lotor added. “But how…”

“We were the only Galra in the city.” She shrugged, a deep crease in her brow. “I’m sure the people will suspect us. I would.”

“Like we went around handing weapons to all the Altean citizens,” Zethrid groaned. “Why in void’s name would we ever do that?”

“The Altean people are scared,” Lotor told them. “All but the very youngest remember little else but the war my father started and stoked for decaphoebs on end. Fear breeds distrust. It breeds malice. Desperate people search for someone to blame. Whether that’s the son of the man who terrorized them for most of their lives, or-“

“The daughter of the man who protected them,” Dayak finished. “ _Cowards._ ”

“Acxa-“ Lotor caught her eye. “We should re-double our reconnaissance efforts. If the Fire of Purification truly has connections to Altiran, there must be a way to track it to its source. Or at the very least cut off their access. It won’t solve the problem, but it may buy us time.”

“Not to mention keep Queen Allura safer,” Ezor said, a maddening, playful lilt in her voice.

Despite that, he knew she was right. And that was important for far more reasons than his own selfish motivations. But speak of the devil – a communication alert popped up on his screen a moment later. From Altea.

Acxa’s eyes darted over to it before her gaze rested on him again. “Do you want some privacy?”

Whatever she was implying, he chose to ignore it. He nodded. “Go, prepare whatever resources you’ll need to head out on a mission the moment we get a lead. Anything you require, it’s approved.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

The moment he was alone, he opened the communication channel. And there she was, just as he was expecting – Allura. Smiling at him.

From bed.

He blinked. “Queen Allura…are you ill?”

She sighed, her smile never wavering. It was a tired, heavy thing, but it lit up her face none the less. “No,” she said. “Well…I suppose, that’s not entirely true. But there’s nothing you need to worry about. I’m told it’s all perfectly normal.”

“Normal?”

“My mother experienced the same thing. Runs in the family, I suppose. I wanted to wait until I was back on my feet to contact you, but I…” Something in her eyes sparkled, her smile widening despite her apparent fatigue. “I just couldn’t wait.”

Lotor’s heart thumped in his chest, like it knew something his mind hadn’t yet grasped. But thoughts were turning over in his head, a hundred possibilities parring themselves down until just one remained, and he swallowed. “Are…are you…”

“I am,” she told him, on the edge of what could have been either a sob or a laugh. Either way, her eyes were shining, bright and elated. “I’m pregnant.”


	6. Chapter 6

Pregnant.

The queen of Altea was pregnant. By _him,_ no less. It hardly even felt real – despite all they had done, all of their efforts, all of the times that Lotor had wondered what it would be like to know that his child was growing inside of her-

No, not _his_ child. It may have his genes, he reminded himself, but the child would never be his. He would not be a father. It was quite possible they would never meet at all, and perhaps that was for the best. Just as it was for the best that his and Allura's arrangement was now at an end.

He could barely breathe, let alone speak, until Allura's soft voice caught his attention again: "Lotor? Are you alright?"

His gaze snapped up to meet hers. "Yes," he forced out, a smile stretching wide across his face. "Yes, I'm fine. More than fine. This…this is wonderful news."

"It is," she breathed, relief flooding her face and softening her features even more. Stars, he swore she was _glowing,_ despite the bags under her eyes and the weary pallor of her face. "And I can't thank you enough. For all you've done. For this, for what happened during that speech…" Tears sprung to her eyes, and she groaned as she wiped them away. "Ah…I'm sorry. My hormones have been raging as much as you'd expect these last few movements…"

"It's alright," he said, his voice softer than he'd thought possible. "And you're welcome, Queen Allura. I was…happy to be of service. And I'm even happier to see that you're doing well, despite the morning sickness."

" _Morning sickness._ " She sounded bitter. "It's a horrible name. I've been sick at all hours of the day. Poor Coran has had to hold my hair back more times than I bet he ever bargained for while I-" Her face slowly turned a deep rosy shade. "Oh…I'm sorry. Surely, you don't need to know any of that."

Lotor couldn't help but chuckle at the sheepish way she hid behind her hand, blushing deep and looking like she wanted to hide behind her tangled hair. "Please. I've heard much worse before."

"Still, it's hardly the best way to thank you for all you've done. And Acxa too. I still feel horrible about how she was treated after everything that happened…"

"She doesn't hold it against you," he assured her. "Nor do I. Acxa isn't the type to hold a grudge."

"She saved my life and spent vargas sitting in a holding cell while we-"

How could he forget? Even if she cut herself off, biting her lip, Lotor could practically still feel how tightly she'd clung to him as he'd slid inside her on the sofa in the royal study. Her breathless little words of encouragement in her ear, her nails dragging over the nape of his neck, her hot gasps puffing against his jaw as he'd done what she'd pleaded for him to do and _distracted_ her, if just for a short time. 

Well, clearly it had resulted in more than just a simple distraction. Two birds, one stone, as the saying went.

Lotor offered a deep bow, if only to hide the flush creeping up his own ears. "Queen Allura," he said, "You have my word – any resources or information you need to investigate what happened, I'll freely give them. But in the meantime…" He straightened up again, smiling. "Please, rest…I daresay you've earned it."

Allura let out a soft, warm laugh. "Earned it or not, I don't have much of a choice. I can't exactly make any appearances in public in this state." Her hand wandered to her stomach, resting there over the sheets. It was still flat for now, but that would change soon enough. "I just hope the little one goes easy on me."

_Little one._

Something deep in Lotor's chest _lurched._

"Y-yes," he said with a nod, breath catching. "Yes, I hope so too. And if I may be so bold, I…" He clenched his hands behind his back. Did he truly have a right to ask this of her? Whether or not he did, he couldn't help it. "I would like it very much if you…kept me informed. About how things are progressing. Only if you're comfortable-"

"Of course!" Her answer came quickly with a bright smile that lit up her eyes. "Oh, Lotor, of _course_ I will. You have my word."

There was something twisting in his gut – something possessive and _protective._ Some instinct he'd buried so far inside of him that he'd never realized it existed at all. It almost made him wobble on his feet, his knees weak under his weight, his hands shaking behind his back as he watched Allura's fingers curl gently over her stomach.

 _My baby,_ a voice insisted.

He pushed it down, silencing it then and there.

_Bury that impulsiveness, you fool._

He swallowed and forced his voice to steady. "I appreciate that, Queen Allura. Sincerely." There was a pinch in her brow. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded strained. “I just…my stomach is acting up again…I should go.” She forced a smile. “But I’ll stay in touch about everything. I swear it. _Thank you,_ Lotor.”

When the call ended, he was left staring at his own reflection in the glass window before him, superimposed against the stars. A baby. _His baby._ No matter how much he tried to will that thought away – selfish and dangerous as it was – it refused to budge. A baby was growing inside of the queen of Altea, and he had been the one to put it there.

He swallowed, turning and walking on the door on numb legs, barely registering the soldiers who stopped and bowed as he passed by. They may as well have been phantoms for all the attention he paid them. He wandered, almost aimlessly, stepping onto the elevator unable to get the image of Allura out of his mind. Hair tangled, face flushed, eyes tired, but a smile plastered firmly on her face.

Glowing, as if she was the shining Altean sun itself.

The moment the doors before him opened, he heard Acxa’s voice drifting from behind the console: “…only so many places they can be hiding. They must be close to Altea if they’re working to infiltrate the capital city. Or maybe somewhere with ties to-“ She paused, meeting his eye. “Lotor.”

“Oh wow, you look like you saw a ghost,” Ezor chimed. “Are you okay? Did the queen yell at you or something.”

“No, Ezor,” he said. “Quite the opposite in fact.”

“Wow, what’s with the smile?” Zethrid asked. “I’ve never seen you smile like that.”

He was smiling? He hadn’t even noticed. He shook his head. They were alone for now – just his generals and him, in the most secure area of the Galra Command. Given that, he allowed himself to speak a bit more freely: “The queen had news for me. It seems she is…” Void, the word stuck in his throat like it was made of glue. He swallowed. “The queen is pregnant.”

“ _Pregnant?_ ” Ezor choked. “Like…like with an _baby?_ ”

“What else would she be pregnant with?” Zethrid countered. “Alteans don’t lay eggs, you moron.”

“I _know_ that! Geez!”

Acxa stared at him, wide-eyed. For a moment it seemed that he had left her speechless. A rare sight. “She’s pregnant?” she asked. “She just told you?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re…”

It must have been the look in his eye that made her end the question there. Even now the realization made him feel unsteady on his own feet. He swore even Narti looked surprised, as impossible as it would have seemed to anyone else. “For obvious reasons,” he said, “This information is…sensitive. Queen Allura hasn’t yet told her people of our…arrangement, nor do I have any plans to make it public to the rest of the empire. Especially with the Fire of Purification still at large on the outskirts of our territory.”

The thought made something twist in his gut. All things considered, the timing could scarcely be _worse._ If the Fire of Purification had truly infiltrated Altiran, if they were targeting _Allura –_ Lotor didn’t want to think of the implications should the news of her pregnancy get out too soon. Not to mention the nature of how it had come to be.

“Acxa.” His general straightened to attention. “I believe that I may have an idea of where we should focus our reconnaissance efforts for the time being. Considering that Sendak and his forces are targeting Altea, even if it is in an effort to shake my grip on the throne, there is one place where we must investigate further.”

“I’m listening,” she said.

All eyes were on him, his generals waiting for his command. At least for now, he had people he could trust, unwaveringly.

“There is more you need to know – all of you – about the Altean moon colony.”

* * *

"I would advise against deploying on this mission alone," Dayak said, staring down her nose at him as Lotor prepared to enter the cockpit of his Sincline ship. "But I'm sure that such advice would go unheeded."

"I'm not going alone," he insisted. "As always, my generals will be with me."

"And I suppose you have good reason not to disclose your destination." Dayak's eyes narrowed. "A risky move for the man holding this empire together by a few tenuous threads."

Lotor offered her a flash of teeth. "My my, Dayak. Is that your way of saying you're concerned for me?"

"I'm concerned for the well-being of the empire, as always. And you are too important to risk losing."

He stepped into the cockpit, settling in at the controls. "Put your worries to bed, Dayak. We won't be long, and we have no plans to meet anyone in combat."

"As if all combat goes according to _plan,_ " Dayak sighed. She bowed deeply, one fist pressed against her chest. "As always, I have trust in your abilities. Just as long as you do not overestimate them. Such a thing would be more dangerous than any weapon or foe."

"Your advice is as valuable as ever, Dayak," Lotor nodded.

"Wow," Ezor whistled. "Is Dayak actually _worried_ about you?"

He sighed. "Hardly. Her advice is sound as always. I admit it is a risk, joining you on a reconnaissance mission so far from central command, given the state of affairs."

"And the bounty on your head," Zethrid added.

"I don't think there is a bounty," Ezor mused. "I think Sendak just hates him so much he wants to kill him for the fun of it."

How _comforting._

He waited until they were out of communication range from central command before opening their navigation systems and inputting the coordinates, something that Acxa noticed in a heartbeat. "Are you concerned about being followed?"

"Merely a precaution," he said. In truth, if they were to be followed by some dubious individual, it would do little to stop them. His concern lay more with his loyal followers rather than the rebels in this case. "Where we're going…it would be best if we kept the truth of it from the officers at central command the better."

"This colony…you said it was destroyed."

Lotor finished inputting the coordinates and let his hands rest on the flight controls, feeling the ship thrumming underneath him as the warp engines prepared for the jump. "It was…under my father's orders."

"I didn't even know there were Altean colonies," Ezor said. "I thought Zarkon wiped all of them out at the start of the war."

"He did. The majority of them at least. Altea's colonies were largely small ones, spread out across the galaxy to stabilize struggling planets and systems rather than to expand their own power. When Zarkon began weeding out the planets and people he deemed too weak to add to his new, twisted empire, he made it a point to destroy every single planet that was loyal to or controlled by Altea." His hands tightened on the controls, minutely. "Alfor established the last colony, on the moon orbiting a long dead planet, and protected it using similar shielding technology to what surrounds Altea itself. The colony was cloaked from outside foes completely. To the unaware observer, it may as well not have existed at all."

"Well _someone_ figured it out," Zethrid huffed. "It's gone after all."

Lotor was silent, staring straight ahead.

"Ready for warp," Acxa said, and just a tick later, his back was pressed hard against the cockpit seat, the air forcing its way from his lungs as the ship lurched forward into hyperspace. It lasted only a moment, white spots blinking before his eyes as they emerged at their destination.

Zethrid groaned. "I always hated that…"

"At least it doesn't make you puke anymore!" Ezor chimed, grinning at her.

"Lotor." Acxa turned toward him, meeting his eye. "This colony…what happened to it exactly?"

He sighed, the beginnings of a headache brewing behind his eyes. A side effect from the warp, he told himself. It would pass soon enough. "Precisely what you already know. Zarkon discovered it, and when he did, he wiped it out completely. Thousands upon thousands of Altean civilians, vaporized without mercy."

"Why were they here anyway?" Zethrid asked. "Not like they had any societies to _stabilize_ floating around a dead planet."

"It was a research colony," Lotor told her. "Performing experiments deemed too dangerous to perform on their home planet. They knew the risks, of course. All of them came willingly. Enthusiastically. But as dangerous as their experiments were, they were a hundred times more dangerous to Zarkon." He frowned as he stared at the charred husk of the planet before them, a long dead hunk of rock orbiting a bright red sun. And just behind it, slowly coming into view as they fell into orbit, they spotted it – the remains of the moon colony.

Lotor took the controls back from the ship computer, guiding them toward it, feeling a pit opening up in his stomach. "This colony is the reason my father fell from power. Without the knowledge they gained, it's likely that Altea would never have been able to hold Zarkon off long enough for me to have the chance to end his reign."

"Do you think the Sendak would come back here searching for some kind of remnant of whatever they were working on?" Acxa asked him. "Some kind of weapons, maybe?"

Lotor shook his head, stiffly. "Not weapons, no. They were all destroyed. Of that, I'm certain. But even so, there are things here that someone like Sendak could use to his advantage. This place still has connections to Altea…nothing he could use to infiltrate the planet directly, but if he were able to get a signal out from the ruins of this colony-"

Out of the corner of his eye, Lotor caught Narti's head whipping around to face the opposite viewport. A tingle rushed down his spine as he picked up on movement – barely there, just on the other side of the moon. A tick later, a ship emerged: a familiar warship, scarred from battle, with a bastardized version of the Galra imperial crest emblazoned on its flank.

Acxa's eyes went wide. " _Sendak._ "

"The emperor himself coming to greet me in person," a voice hissed over the communication channel as it opened. "How _flattering._ " Lotor knew that voice. He knew that deep, growling laugh. It was cold and pitiless, calling to mind a wide, twisted smile. "What brings you back to this place, _Blood Emperor?_ "

Sendak spat out the archaic term with venom, like it burned his tongue as he spoke. "Traitor," Lotor growled. "You know full well what heinous crimes you've committed, hiding in the shadows like a coward while others do your dirty work. You're a sorry excuse for a Galra."

"This coming from a half-breed like you," Sendak huffed. "If you're here to face me in battle, I would be happy to oblige."

Beside him, Acxa met his eye, shaking her head. He knew already what the read-outs on her screen would say. They were outmatched, surely. Even the single ship in view was more than they could handle on their own. Oh, they could out-maneuver and out-speed him with ease, and if Lotor were to meet Sendak in combat alone, he was certain he could prevail. But for now, they were at a disadvantage, and a dangerous one at that.

"You're too much of a hypocrite to face me in a true battle," Lotor sneered. "You've proven that time and again. All your talk of Galra purity and holding to our old ways, and you cannot even manage to face me with an ounce of honor."

"Speak of honor as much as you like. It's rich coming from the man trying to put a worthless pup in the belly of the Altean queen."

Lotor froze, his body going cold. His mouth dry, he wheezed, "What?"

"You thought you'd kept such a careful secret." Sendak chuckled. "The two of you sneaking around under the guise of _diplomacy…_ 'Building a new universe together, under a banner of peace,' and all that. Ludicrous."

Lotor's knuckles were white against the controls. "I will never…" He grit his teeth, jaw aching with the force behind it. "I will _never_ allow you to hurt her."

"Oh, is that concern I hear in your voice?"

"Make your choice, Sendak. Face me like the true Galra warrior you're so fond of claiming to be, or don't and prove that you're simply a treacherous coward!"

"You're soft," Sendak growled. "Soft for that pitiful Altean queen. _Weak,_ both of you."

"Face me, you snake, and I'll smack you down like I did at the Kral Zera!"

Narti's tail nudged his ankle, and when he glanced at her she gave him a nod. He swallowed down the fury bubbling up in his stomach. "It's done," Acxa told him quietly. "Sir, we should fall back."

"They must have some kind of cloaking tech," Ezor said, her tone suddenly missing her usual playfulness. "I'm picking up traces of other ships, but can't get a good read. He's definitely got us outnumbered, but I can't tell how bad."

Just how large had this blasted rebellion grown, Lotor wondered? He ignored the ice racing through his veins, couldn't afford to get hung up on hypotheticals and questions when they had more important things to worry about.

"Are you going to turn tail and run from me like the sickly half-breed you are?" Sendak growled. "So many big words and grand promises. They mean nothing coming from the mouth of a failed experiment like you."

Lotor hardened himself to those words. He'd endured plenty worse. "Fall back," he said, already taking the controls and turning about-face. "And close down the communication channel."

They left a trail of sparkling engine exhaust hanging behind them in the empty space as they sped away.

* * *

Acxa was the first to speak, after a debilitatingly long silence: "He knows about Allura. But from the sound of it, he doesn't know everything."

It was true, albeit only so comforting. News of her pregnancy hadn't reached Sendak, and that, at least was heartening. Though if Sendak had spies in Altea, he supposed it was only a matter of time before he found out. Who could they trust? Who could Allura trust? Her advisor? Her guards? Her doctors?

She had to know about this, and yet the thought of telling her made his stomach roil and twist into knots. After all, if he told her Sendak had somehow managed to use the ruins of the moon colony to infiltrate Altea, he would have to tell her _everything._

Just imagining it made his blood feel like it had frozen in his chest.

How could he tell her the truth about the colony? How could he possibly tell her what he'd done?

"Lotor." Acxa was frowning at him. "You look sick."

"I'm fine," he lied.

"If you're letting what he said get to you-"

"I'm not."

"He's full of hot air," Zethrid insisted. "All threats and no punch. He didn't come after us because he was a coward."

"He could have pursued us with as many ships as he had," Ezor said.

"None of his ships can match our speed," Acxa told her. "It was a show of power. He wanted us to see how much he knew, and how much firepower he had at his disposal. He knows we can't take him down directly alone, and now that we know that he has ties to Altiran…we may not be able to bring the full force of the Empire's fleet down on him without risking the safety of Altea." She glanced Lotor's way, a deep furrow in her brow. "Seems he found a weakness in your armor, sir."

Yes, he had, although Lotor was loathe to admit it. Had it been anyone but Acxa, he would have denied it outright. His fists tightened around the controls. "I will not allow him to exploit it. Narti, have you got a signal?"

Narti nodded, turning the console toward him. There it was, as clear as day – a strong signal tracking Sendak's ship. He hadn't moved far from the moon colony from the looks of it. Not even a single attempt to pursue them.

Acxa was right. He was sending a message. Taunting them. Lotor clenched his jaw. "Good."

It was little, in the grand scheme, but it was a start.  

* * *

Once they returned to command, there were preparations to be made. There were contingency plans to put in place and precautions to take. He trusted his generals whole-heartedly with the task of tracking Sendak’s ship – as small as it was, it was better than being completely blind to his movements.

“For now he hasn’t strayed far from that abandoned colony,” Acxa told him. “I don’t suspect that he’ll make any move toward Altea, if that’s your concern.”

“I’m hardly concerned for Altea itself,” Lotor insisted. “Its defenses are more than enough to hold Sendak back if it comes to that, even if he does have a small fleet of ships under his command.”

“They’re more organized than we thought,” Zethrid sighed. “I thought they were just a group of cowardly rebels, but it almost seems like they’re amassing an army. I wish I’d crushed his skull when I’d had the chance.”

“What chance was that?” Ezor fired back. “The last time we saw him was when Lotor took the throne at the Kral Zera.”

“And I should have crushed him then!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lotor said. “We must plan our next move carefully. And we…” He sighed. “We must take more than merely our own interests into consideration. The Galra Empire I’m trying to rebuild does not exist merely for its own sake. We must work alongside others if we’re going to get anywhere.”

Ezor rose a brow, playfully. “Fancy way of saying you wanna see Queen Allura again.”

Not _just_ that, he wanted to insist, but he didn’t waste time arguing when her point wasn’t far from the truth. He had hoped that the next time he contacted her would be under better circumstances, not to mention that she needed to rest. It had only been a handful of quintants since she’d told him about her pregnancy. For all he knew, she was still bedridden.

And he hadn’t quite absorbed that information yet. Thinking about it still made his stomach twist into a tight knot under his ribs. But this had to be done, and it couldn’t wait. He knew that painfully well.

When he was alone, he took a steadying breath and called.

The face that answered was not Allura’s.

“Emperor Lotor!” Coran chimed with a smile. “Good to hear from you!”

Lotor blinked. “Ah…High Advisor Coran…”

“Bet you weren’t expecting me to answer.” He caught the tip of his mustache between his fingers, twisting it. “I presume you’d like to speak with Queen Allura, yes?”

“That was my intention.”

“Well I’m sorry to say she can’t speak right now. Attending to a few duties that fell by the wayside while she was bed-bound. But I’d be honored to pass on a message to her tout-suite if that’s all the same to you!”

He considered it for a moment or two. Allura’s High Advisor was her right hand, presumably privy to all of the same information as she was, even at the highest levels of classification. He was one of the few people who knew of their arrangement, and undoubtedly one of the closest people to her tending to her pregnancy. If anyone could be trusted it was him, and yet the thought of delivering a message like this to anyone but Allura herself made him uneasy.

“Allura,” he said instead. “The last time I spoke with her, she…”

“Ah, yes. Just a spot of quimbly tummy. Par for the course in a…well, a case like this. She…did tell you the news, didn’t she?”

“Yes.” Despite everything, he found himself smiling. “Yes, she did. It’s quite the exciting revelation.”

Coran’s eyes started to _shine_ as he clasped his hands together, cheeks flushed and lips stretched back in a wide grin. “Exciting indeed! And she’s endlessly grateful to you for your…ah…well… _assistance_ with all this-“

Lotor cleared his throat. “It was nothing.” A tick later, he added, “As it happens, it’s part of why I’ve contacted you so soon after our last conversation. I realize Queen Allura is tending to her own duties, but I’ve come to offer my support. The _Galra Empire’s_ support.”

“Support?” Coran asked, suddenly serious. “What kind of support is this?”

“Defensive support,” Lotor clarified. “My apologies for marring this happy news with such solemn talk, but when the time comes to make her _condition_ public, well…given what happened during that speech…”

A shadow cast over Coran’s eyes. “Believe you me, I’ve thought of the same. I can only keep her from pushing herself so much, you know. Just like her mother that way…” He shook his head. “Er…Emperor Lotor…please don’t take this the wrong way, but given the nature of what happened during that address, I believe it may not be prudent to…to bring Galra forces to Altiran…”

“I understand, and you’re precisely right. That’s why I’m not offering to send Galra forces into Altiran, or anywhere on Altea itself. In fact, I’m not planning to have any part of the Galra fleet anywhere near the planet. When I offer my support, I mean that I’m offering to help investigate those people who launched that attack in the first place. It would be of mutual interest to both my people and yours.”

“The assassin was Altean.”

“But the influence that provoked that attack did not come from within Altea. Surely you know that well enough.”

Coran had a deep frown etching its way onto his face, wrinkles forming between his brows and on the edges of his mouth. “I’ve heard rumors of it…this group of rebels who broke off from the Galra Empire after Zarkon fell.” He pressed his hands against his belt, the furrow in his brow growing even deeper. “The _Fire of Purification,_ I’ve heard it called.”

“You know of them?” Lotor breathed.

“Frustratingly little, I’m afraid. We weren’t too concerned about their influence until that attack on the queen’s life. And well…to think that their influence could have reached even here…it’s frightening to say the least.”

Frightening was one word for it.

“That’s precisely why I want to offer the full support of the Galra Empire,” Lotor insisted. “Bringing down a group so bent on reverting us to the dark days of war is of interest to us both.”

“I couldn’t agree more. But I must ask – why bring this to our attention now?” He arched a brow. “I take it perhaps something has come to your attention? Something that was important enough for you want to inform Queen Allura about it directly?”

Lotor took a breath, biting the inside of his cheek. “There is…one thing. Something that could be of grave importance, though I regret that I don’t have more information.” He let the conversation lapse into silence for just a moment. He had to choose his words carefully. The last thing he wanted was to let slip something that could put the entirety of their alliance in jeopardy at such a precarious moment. “I…had my suspicions about how the Fire of Purification may have managed to infiltrate Altea. I suppose it was more of a hunch than anything else.”

“A hunch, eh? Valuable things under the right circumstances. And what did this hunch of yours suggest?”

“If it was fruitless, I wouldn’t have bothered bringing it up at all. So I suppose you could say much hunch was correct, though I have yet to discern the exact implications of it…” He closed his eyes, hands pressed behind his back. “It had to do with the moon colony outside the fringes of Galra territory?”

Coran’s breath caught in his throat. “The moon- Just how much do you know about that place?”

“I know it’s long been abandoned. That it was…” Lotor pressed his teeth against his tongue, chest tightening. “That it was destroyed by Zarkon, costing thousands of Alteans their lives.”

“What did you find there?” Coran insisted, all levity gone from his tone. Lotor could hardly blame him.

“Sendak. The leader of the Fire of Purification. And not just him – several ships. Signs that he is gathering an army and is much more well-organized than I originally suspected. It’s possible that he was merely using the abandoned colony as a ploy. Perhaps it’s inconsequential after all. But if it’s possible that he’s somehow using it to shake Altean loyalty to the queen…”

He didn’t much want to think of that. It made his stomach twist around itself until he wanted to scream and claw at his own armor. And it seemed that Coran was just as shaken, sinking into a chair and rubbing his temples. “This is bad indeed,” he mused. “I should bring this to Allura’s attention.”

“ _No._ ”

Coran looked up at him before Lotor even realized he’d spoken. _Careless._

“I…” He cleared his throat. “I simply meant…her condition…” Not knowing what else to do, Lotor pressed his fist against his chest, bowing deeply enough that his hair spilled over his ears. “Please, allow me to give you my most solemn vow that I will not let Sendak and his vile group of rebels lay one finger on Altea or Allura again. They will feel the full force of the Galra Imperial Fleet the moment they stray anywhere near Altiran. I swear it.”

Coran sighed. “As her advisor, I cannot keep anything from her that she needs to know. This concerns Altea…its safety…the safety of her unborn-“ He groaned. “She needs to know about Sendak and his growing forces. And, as much as it pains me to admit it, she needs to know that the colony may be wrapped up in all this as well. But I’ll find the right time to tell her all of this, and I’ll deliver the news as gently as I can.” He managed a smile, despite looking utterly exhausted as he did so. “She’s a tough one. You know that well enough by now. No need to treat her as anything else.”

Of course, Lotor thought, staring at Coran once again and pushing the hair back from his face. He was a fool to think otherwise. “I trust your judgment, seneschal.”

“Again with that archaic old title,” Coran blustered. “Well, your support is greatly appreciated, Emperor Lotor. It’s a heartening thing to see, the Galra Empire making such ardant strides towards keeping the peace. And don’t you worry – I’ll keep Queen Allura and that little one of hers safe, even if it costs me my life.”

Lotor didn’t doubt that. Not for a single tick.

He only hoped that he could do his part to help keep both of their promises.  


End file.
